FAREWELL
by strcrssdlvr
Summary: Edward leaves Bella and she struggles through many difficult situations that lead to a reunion with her lost family. But how long will that reunion last when old enemies come to claim vengeance? Will any of the Cullens survive?
1. MY SWEET PRINCE

*****THIS STORY BEGINS AFTER THE EVENTS OF TWILIGHT*****

**This is my first attempt at fanfiction. I hope you enjoy the rough and tumble ride that you are about to embark upon. I also hope that, if you have the time, you let me know what this story makes you think and feel. Just a reminder, in case you happened to miss it in the summary: this story has a tendency to get dark. So if darkness ain't you're cup of tea, I recommend you seriously contemplate whether or not you want to read this story. This is the only warning I will give you from here on out. Now, onward. Enjoy, darlings.**

**~Kate**

**1 ~ MY SWEET PRINCE**

"**Never thought you'd make me perspire**

**Never thought I'd do you the same**

**Never thought I'd fill with desire**

**Never thought I'd feel so ashamed…**

**Never thought I'd get any higher**

**Never thought you'd fuck with my brain**

**Never thought all this could expire**

**Never thought you'd go break the chain**

**Me and you baby**

**Still flush all the pain away**

**So before I end my day**

**Remember, my sweet prince**

**You are the one…"**

_**My Sweet Prince**_** by Placebo**

_**Tuesday, September 13 to Wednesday, September 14**_

_**Bella's POV**_

If ever I had to choose a perfect day, this would be it. The rain is pouring from the skies and I hate being wet. I am expected at a party in approximately one hour where I am the guest of honor and I hate being the center of attention. I loathe the idea of getting older and today is my eighteenth birthday. But right now none of that matters because _nothing_ could remove the smile from my glowing face.

***

I had spent the majority of the morning sulking over the fact that I had now officially turned a year older than Edward was ever going to be, yet another item to be added to my lengthy mental list of severe inequalities between myself and my immortal love. Edward would forever retain the form of seventeen-year-old perfection and I, well, I, it seemed, was becoming more haggard, more wrinkled, more _imperfect_ with each passing day. Eighteen. I cringed at the number, for it was much more than mere digits in my overactive brain. It was a symbol, a constant reminder of aging, of time, of _death_. But it wasn't so much the concept of dying that scared me—I had enough brushes with death to suppress any normal fears of that experience. No, it was the idea that my death would bring about our _separation_.

I had known Edward for only a fraction of my life, but, in that short time, he had become the whole of my world. I could not imagine existing, in any form, without him. I could not fathom heaven as a reality for me if Edward were to remain here on earth indefinitely. I couldn't bear the thought of losing him. He, on the other hand, seemed completely capable of surviving without me. The proof of this fact was evident in his incessant denial to grant my wish to be changed, to remain immortal with him, forever. He may love me as he says, but he surely did not _need _me as much as I needed him. And that scared me beyond description.

Edward thought it was silly, my view of our differences. He claimed that I was absurdly incapable of seeing myself clearly as if his bemused chuckles and velvet reassurances could somehow quell all of my insecurities and bring forth a sudden epiphany that I truly was worthy of being loved by such a god-like creature. He claimed to be the unworthy one, but that idea was ludicrous. He was the greatest gift I had ever received, the grand prize and I felt like I was merely his consolation. After all, I had little, if anything, to offer. I gave him my love, my trust, my heart, yes, but it seemed inadequate as I denied him my mind, my body. In all fairness, the former was completely beyond my control and the latter was per Edward's insistence, but those facts did not stop my constant desire for something _more. _I wanted to _share_ everything _with_ him; I wanted to _be _everything _to_ him. I wanted him not just to _love _me, but to _need _me. I wanted, in some aspect, to finally be his equal.

It was somewhere along this line of thinking that I stumbled upon a tempting compromise of sorts. Edward had wanted me to happily celebrate this darkened day, and I could think of one surefire way to make me rocket to cloud nine far enough that I just might grace my party with a genuine smile. I was fairly certain that being wrapped up in the bliss of the afterglow would be enough fuel to feed my smile through much more than an elaborate birthday party. Almost immediately after the thoughts graced my consciousness, my spirits lifted, the wheels of my mind rapidly turning as they performed an unfamiliar task better suited to the whirlwind that was my best friend—_scheming._

I was sure both Edward and Alice noticed the change in my demeanor, but, luckily for my blush-prone cheeks and horrible lying skills, they did not question my sudden alteration of moods. I spotted Alice glancing at me a few times with an almost devilish glint in her eye as we exited the school and walked to Edward's Volvo, and I was immediately tempted to crawl into the nearest hole and die of embarrassment when I suddenly remembered—how it had managed to slip my mind, I will never know—that Alice was highly attuned to the futures of her family. It seemed too much to hope for that my decision to seduce Edward had managed to sneak, undetected, by her clairvoyant Cullen radar, but if the resident psychic had sensed even the slightest hint of my plan, she covered it well as she kissed my cheek and gushed "You're going to have so much fun at the party," before dancing off toward their home.

I took a deep breath and tried to forget about visions and insecurities and fear. I had intended the coming hours to be about me and Edward, about expressing our desires, not separated as we so often were by our classifications as a vampire and a human, but united as, simply, a man and a woman in love. If seeing that through meant that our activities would be broadcast on the Alice News Network, well, then that would just be the price I was going to have to pay. All things considered, the benefits of sharing myself with Edward so intimately were worth any imaginable cost. I could only hope to convince him of this when we arrived at my house.

And to be quite honest, I was more than a little concerned about my ability to do so. I had spent the better part of the afternoon oblivious to the constant chatter of my teachers, deciding that it was a much more pressing matter to decipher all possible ways to break down Edward's resolve. I was fairly certain that I would need to utilize every available second to my advantage, but as we drew nearer to my home, it became increasingly more difficult to continue plotting and devastatingly easy to succumb to his close proximity, to my own pleasurable fantasies.

I studied his chiseled features, blissfully imagining what I hoped lay in store for us once we reached my bedroom. My eyes traced a downward path from his perfectly unkempt hair—God, how I wanted to run my fingers through it at that very second—to his delectable lips. I lightly bit my own lip and toyed with the bracelet on my wrist as I thought about kissing him, about _really _kissing him. And not just on his lips—I wanted to kiss him _everywhere_. I wanted to explore every part of him, taste every patch of his skin as if I were starving and he was the only sustenance my mouth, my entire body had longed for.

I couldn't help but get lost in my own heavenly fantasy until I heard angelic laughter that snapped my mind back to the reality at hand. My eyes focused on Edward's amused face as he stood before me in the rain, the passenger door of his Volvo opened and his hand poised to help me rise out of the car and above my daydreams. A traitorous blush rose to my cheeks and I instantly looked to my feet, but he knelt down and gently lifted my chin with his cool fingertip so that he could stare into my eyes. For a moment, we just gazed at each other, and I could have sworn that, just for that one second, his breathing caught and his eyes flickered with the same lust I knew was evident in my own. As quickly as it had come, though—provided that it had even been there at all—his expression became one that I knew all-too-well: controlled, serious, no-nonsense Edward.

"Sometimes, love, I swear I would give up anything to know what you were thinking." His voice initially lacked its velvety smoothness, and I dared to hope that the husky undertones meant that his mind was somewhere in the sinful realm of my own. If only he _did _know my thoughts, just this once—I wondered how he would react. Would he finally allow himself to lose just a smidgeon of his control so that we could love each other completely? Would he finally learn to trust himself enough to _let go_? _No, probably not_ I thought as the rational part of my brain took over. He would most likely extend our boundaries even further, and that was something that I simply could not tolerate. At that moment, I was rather thankful that I was the one person whose mind was immune to Edward's special abilities. The last thing I needed was an all-out no touching rule enforced.

My hours of careful planning seemed inadequate when pitted against his decades of cautious control, because as my heart was still racing and I was struggling to rein in my sporadic breathing, he had fully regained his composure and again offered his hand to me saying, "Arise, fair sun. Romeo and Julietawait." I groaned before I had the good sense to stifle my distaste; watching the movie was, after all, the excuse I had used first, to delay my party and second, to convince Edward to spend the entire afternoon at my house sans interruptive siblings and parents. I should probably at least _try _to make it seem like I was looking forward to the film. For now.

Edward unlocked the door and led me into the kitchen, depositing our bags, as usual, on the empty table. He turned to look at me and I knew it was time. I needed to be confident, smooth, sexy—in other words, I would have to undergo an immediate personality overhaul—but I was bound and determined to do whatever was necessary. I took a deep breath, smiled and wrapped my arms around his solid torso. His own arms instantly mimicked mine and he gently kissed the top of my forehead. His gray button-down shirt was drenched from standing outside in the rain, and as the water began to seep into my own clothing, I realized that the gloomy Forks weather had finally been a blessing rather than an annoyance.

I took a step back, looked down at my dampened blue sweater and said, "Um, Edward? I don't think that snuggling up for a movie in soaking wet clothing is going to be overly comfortable. How about we change first?" It was a reasonable request, I knew, but I couldn't keep from biting my lip as I waited for him to respond.

He gave me his signature, crooked smile and ran his hands through his dripping wet hair as he conceded, "You're probably right." He grabbed my hand, led me to my room and I let out a sigh of relief. The first major threshold—getting Edward to my room when we were supposed to be watching a movie in the living area—had been crossed. He grabbed a spare shirt and pair of pants from my bottom dresser drawer—he had decided to keep extras in my room since he rarely spent the night at his own house—and said, "I'll be right back," before he was out the door and in the bathroom.

_Okay, Bella _I thought, giving myself a mini pep talk. _You can do this. It's ti__me to get sexy_. I quickly removed my clothing, replaced my plain-Jane undergarments with the only lacy set I owned—I still wasn't quite sure where they came from, but my money was on Alice—and made my way to my closet. I started shoving shoes and hangers and piles of clothing out of the way as I searched near the back for the striped bag that I never in a million years imagined I would want to see again. Finally, as I tossed one dirty old converse and a shirt I could swear I hadn't seen since I was ten out of the way, I found what I had been looking for. I moved the pink tissue paper aside and pulled out the midnight blue silky pajama set Renee had gotten me exactly three years ago, thankful that she had sent them with the rest of my belongings from the house in Phoenix when she and Phil had officially moved to Jacksonville. I ripped off the tags and slipped them on before throwing the bag back into the abyss of my closet. The set's cropped camisole and low-rise pants definitely didn't qualify as lingerie in my dictionary, but something about wearing a silk ensemble that showed off a considerable amount of skin on my upper body, certainly more than _I_ had ever displayed in Forks, filled me with an air of sultriness, of seduction, and that was precisely what I needed.

I had intended to hurry over to my mirror and give myself a final once-over before Edward returned, but as my bad luck would have it, I tripped over one of my pant legs and went tumbling banana-peel style toward the floor. I landed on my butt with an ungraceful thud and in less than a second, my door flew open and Edward was kneeling in front of me, saying in worried tones, "Bella are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt?" My face was surely a deep crimson by this point, and my emotions were torn between teary-eyed embarrassment and frustration-induced maniacal giggling because it just _figured_ that I couldn't forgo being a klutz on the one day when I was trying exceptionally hard not to make a fool of myself. It didn't take much deliberation before I succumbed to the giggle fit.

Edward drew back momentarily, confused by the absurdity of my laughter, but then an amused smile lit up his face as he watched my body shake in merriment. I attempted to stand, and he instinctively grabbed my arm to help me to my feet. I made it upright, but the remnants of my laughter left me slightly wobbly, and Edward's other hand snaked around my waist to help me steady myself. I felt him stiffen and draw in an unsteady breath in the same instant that my own body was shocked to life by the touch of his cool fingers on the bare, heated skin of my stomach. Edward had never even _seen _my stomach, let alone _touched_ it, and it appeared as though he had only then realized that I wasn't wearing my usual, safe comfy time garb. As soon as I appeared stable on my own two feet, Edward backed away from me and toward the door, his eyes darting everywhere except in my direction.

I watched him closely, and noticed that his breathing was erratic and his hands—his hands were _shaking_. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn that Edward Cullen—Mr. Cool as a Cucumber all day, every day—was _nervous_. At first, I thought I might be imagining it, but then he spoke, no, he _mumbled_, "Bella, I, I'm sorry. I didn't realize—I just heard—and I thought—" he hung his head and continued, "I'll wait outside until you finish getting dressed." Edward did _not _mumble. Ever. It wasn't in my imagination after all: he _was_ jittery and my plans were falling nicely into place.

"Edward," I said with a broad, reassuring smile on my face, the sound of my voice halting him in his tracks though he still refused to raise his eyes from the ground. I walked toward him and placed a soothing hand on his arm. His eyes moved to my fingers and then quickly returned to the floor. "Edward, I _am _finished getting dressed," I continued lightly, trying to disguise my gaiety. "Renee got this for me as a birthday present."

"Alice must have forgotten to mention it," he said hastily through tight lips, his voice breaking uncharacteristically. "I'll have to remember to thank her for that," he continued, almost inaudibly, and then raised the volume of his words to a more human level as he looked at my face—and no lower—and said, "So why is it that you seem to be happy about _this_ birthday present and not about any other? Perhaps I'll have to start getting gift-giving advice from Renee." He smiled at me and my mind when fuzzy for about a second before I realized what that sly, dazzling vampire was up to.

I could tell that he was attempting to regain his control, and I was having none of that. "Actually," I began as I gave his arm a gentle tug and he cautiously followed me to sit on my bed, "I wanted to talk to you about that."

"Oh?" he asked, genuine interest shining in his eyes. He scooted closer to me, though I imagined that his proximity stemmed more from the desire to prevent the full view of my body from reaching his eyes than it did from a longing to sit nearer to me. I mentally shrugged. His reasoning was immaterial; the closer his body to mine, the better.

"Yes. You see, I've been thinking about how I've been such a poor sport today when all any of you really wanted was to see me happily celebrate my birthday. So, in trying to come up with a suitable compromise, I realized that there _was _something that would make this day overly spectacular for me, and the best part of it is, the gift that I want doesn't cost a single cent." My smile became continuously wider as I spoke but died when I finished and saw his body tensing up yet again as his facial expression soured.

"Bella, we've talked about this. I'm not going to end your lif—" I put a finger on his lips to stop his words. I should have known he would automatically think I was talking about being changed. I wondered if my true desire at this moment would acquire a similar negative reaction. I fervently hoped not.

"I'm not talking about being changed. In fact, you aren't even in the right ballpark."

Edward's face instantly brightened. "Alright, love. What is it that you want then?"

For no other reason than the fact that at that exact moment, I didn't know how to appropriately dictate that I wanted the two of us, naked, in my bed, I mischievously replied, "Guess."

He looked at me, puzzled and delighted as his brow furrowed in thought. While he was preoccupied with figuring out my request before I could tell him, I leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. That was merely the starting point, though, because I followed an invisible pecking trail downward to his neck, then propped my hand on his thigh to steady myself as I kissed my way over to his Adam's apple. Eventually, my kisses led me to his perfect lips. I was extremely careful not to cross any of his boundaries just yet, and was rewarded when he gently returned my kisses and wrapped his cool hand overtop of the one I had resting on his leg. My tongue flicked out of my mouth and grazed his lower lip before retreating to the safety of its home and I could feel him smile.

"I can't think when you do that," he said as he broke the kiss and nuzzled his cheek against mine.

"My humblest apologies," I said in a mock-serious tone. "I will do my best to refrain from distracting you while you attempt to uncover my mysterious wish." I giggled and crawled behind his pensive form, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck. I inhaled deeply, reveling in his divine scent, and my brazen behavior returned. I kissed the back of his neck this time, and then I somehow became distracted by his ear. It was beautiful, just like the rest of him, and for the first time ever, I gave it my full attention. I kissed it all around and then gently began sucking on the lower portion of its lobe, nipping at it every so often because it seemed a touch more delicate than the rest of Edward's rock hard body. This was a new experience and I did my best not to cross any lines, but I could feel the handle on my control slipping away every second, especially when Edward's breathing quickened ever so slightly. I allowed myself a few more minutes of devotion to that magnificent ear before I kissed my way back to his mouth and reluctantly forced my lips to break their contact with his skin.

"So," I murmured, "Did you figure out what I want for my birthday?" I felt as though I was making it blatantly obvious, but considering the fact that he was still seated here, with my arms wrapped around him, I doubted he had even the faintest clue what I was up to.

"No," he stated, his eyes closed and the hint of a smirk on his lips. "For some unknown reason, I am having an overwhelmingly difficult time thinking about anything."

"Hmmm," I whispered as I slowly swung myself around him, never removing my arms from his neck, and seated myself in his lap. He didn't immediately become rigid, and I took it as a good sign that he lightly wrapped his arms around my torso, though he was careful to touch me only at a level where my body was covered by the thin layer of cloth. He was so close; I simply couldn't resist kissing his cheek, his chin, his neck just a few more times.

I felt his skin vibrate against my lips as he swallowed hard and then chuckled; the sound was unusually strained and his breathing was becoming heavier, so I leaned away the tiniest bit and stared into his golden eyes. Their extremely light coloring provided evidence of Edward's hunting trip last night and I inwardly gave thanks to whichever one of his siblings had demanded he leave my side and quench his thirst this time. He was constantly trying to build his tolerance and had been going for longer and longer periods between hunting excursions, and I was pleased that, at the very least, he wouldn't be able to use his empty stomach as an excuse to deny my request. Now there were only about a thousand other arguments I needed to surpass. But surpass them I would.

"Tell me. What is it you want, my birthday girl, now that you have so graciously decided to accept my gifts?" The absence of my kisses seemed to have allowed his breathing to return to normal, and his eyes were now sparkling with curiosity. He smiled his crooked smile and, for a moment, I completely forgot both the question and the answer as I got lost in dazzling honey.

But only for a moment. I was committed to seeing this through and no amount of effortless bewildering on Edward's part was going to distract me. "Well," I began as I moved to straddle his lap and tightly grip the collar of his white button-down shirt, my actions hopefully illustrating the significance of my request. My heartbeat started to climb steadily as the nervousness began to coil within me, the result of both the current position of our bodies and the words I was about to say. I averted my eyes from his beautiful face and intently focused them on the top button of his shirt in an effort to distract myself. Thankfully, the intense concentration helped to calm my anxieties as I took a deep breath, mustered every ounce of courage I possessed in my small frame and continued, "Edward, I want _you _for my birthday." I allowed my eyes to flitter up to his, and I was a tad discouraged when I saw him frown.

"Well, that isn't much of a gift. I fell in love with you the moment I heard you whisper my name in your sleep. There must be something else—"

I shook my head, interrupting him, surprised that for all his knowledge and intelligence he could still be so completely clueless. "No, Edward, you don't understand." I stared at the temptation of that top button, and wondered if perhaps I should help him see the light by telling him _and _showing him what it was that I desired. "What I meant was," I paused and made a split-second decision to just go for it. "I meant that I want _all _of you," I said as I timidly fumbled with releasing the button. Edward's golden eyes narrowed in confusion for the briefest instant, so fleetingly that I almost missed it, but I took advantage of his perplexed state and moved to unfasten the next button. I managed to undo that one as well before the realization of my request struck him and his hands moved from around my waist to gently, but firmly, grip my wrists and prevent my fingers from opening his shirt any further. I stared at the beauty of his exposed skin, though it wasn't nearly enough, and waited for the disagreement that I knew was coming.

"Absolutely not," Edward stated, his velvety voice solid, final. I knew it was going to be extremely difficult to persuade him to change his mind, but I had been expecting this reaction and I was fully prepared to argue my valid points.

"Edward, I don't see why—" I began, but he sighed, pursed his lips and cut off my words with the shake of his head.

"It's just not possible, Isabella. If you had any idea how—" His use of my full name was a bad sign of his stubbornness, but two could play the interrupting game.

I gazed heatedly into his eyes and tenaciously asked, "How do you know it's not possible? Have you ever tried it?" I knew the answer to my query, but I wanted him to acknowledge it, to begin to question his own logic, even if it were only for an instant, because it would only take one millisecond for a seed of doubt to be planted in his mind.

His nostrils flared in frustration and he replied, "No, of course I haven't, but I don't need to try it to know that it is dangerous." His eyes were demanding that I listen to him, but I refused to fall into their hypnotic trap. "I can't ever lose control with you, Bella. Even after all of this time, there are still moments when I'm with you where I struggle with my nature. I can't risk your safety for—"

I gently placed my palms on the sides of his face and traced the lines of his cheekbones back and forth with my thumbs as I interjected, "I trust you." The truth of my words was evident in my eyes, but when he moved his gaze to a far-off point beyond the wordless pleas of my face, I knew that our quarrel was far from over.

"I don't," he whispered. The room was silent for a moment as we both struggled with our thoughts and then he removed his hands from my wrists and ran them through his still-damp hair. With every passing second, I knew that his resolve was becoming stronger; I needed to act quickly before he lifted me off of him and escaped to the other side of the room. I needed to somehow convince him of the goodness within him that he refused to see. I needed him to trust _me_ and my judgment enough to allow him to trust _himself_.

"Edward," I softly said, "Please look at me." He complied and I gazed heartbrokenly into his saddened eyes. This was supposed to be a happy afternoon and it was heading south much too quickly. I had to fix this; I had to make him understand. "Edward, I love you, and I want to share myself with you in every way." His mouth opened to protest but I moved my thumbs to his lips and continued, "No, let me finish. I didn't just make this decision rashly, without thorough consideration; I've actually been thinking about it for quite some time. I have been careful to adhere to your guidelines for a physical relationship up until now because you asked me to, but while we have been tiptoeing around each other's bodies I have also been looking for any signs that you are about to lose control, signs that all of this caution was for a legitimate reason, and I have never, not even once, seen any. You have been put to the test over and over again and each time, you have prevailed against your dark side. I know that you, that _we_ can do this.

And, in light of the fact that I have decided to celebrate my birthday and accept presents and enjoy myself, this is the present that I am asking from you: trust me enough to find trust in yourself." My speech was taking on a very serious edge, and I needed to lighten the mood in order to keep a tight hold on my sanity, so I continued, "Besides, didn't Alice say that everyone is supposed to give you your way on your birthday? Give me my way, Edward. Please?" I waited for him to respond, praying that my little monologue had made some sort of an impact.

"Since when did you start listening to Alice?" he said, his tone still serious, unyielding. I was finding it hard to breathe. Edward sighed and then looked into my diffident eyes. "Bella, I _do _trust you. But—"

He continued to speak, but I couldn't bring myself to listen. My carefully constructed mask of confidence was rapidly crumbling down around me and before I could prevent it, a sudden wave of vulnerability washed over me. I felt my lip quiver and I bit down on it a little too harshly in a last-ditch effort to stop my tears from falling. I tasted a hint of salt and iron on my tongue from the tiny droplet of blood that pooled on my lower lip as I swallowed hard and whispered, "Don't you want me?" In that one, short question was stored every insecurity, every fear, every doubt that I had ever felt about his love for me. Each day I forced myself to push them aside, to believe that, for whatever mind-boggling reason, I had managed to win Edward's heart, but in that moment, everything had come bubbling to the surface and I was finding it entirely too difficult to suppress my worries. Much to my chagrin, my tears began to fall, and I clenched my eyes shut so that I wouldn't have to see his reaction to my tragic display.

Edward wrapped his arms around my trembling body and held me against his chest as he said, "Of course I do." He pulled away from me and tilted my chin upward, but I refused to open my eyes and grant him his silent wish. "Love, please," he whispered and I felt his lips begin to kiss the streaks of my tears. Eventually, I caved and my eyes fluttered open to view a blurred version of his face. "Bella, I don't deny you this wish because I don't desire you. You can't even begin to imagine how much I want to give in to you right now. But if—"

"Then do," I stated, simply. His expression emphasized the sincerity of his previous words, and I knew that I still had a strong chance of convincing him, but I was too deflated to put up a good fight now, so I decided to bargain rather than demand. "I just want to try, Edward. I'm not asking you for any guarantees. I'm not hoarding any expectations. I just want to erase your carefully draw lines for one day and make an attempt at loving your body in every way. If it doesn't work out, that's okay. I will be content in knowing that we at least _tried_."

Edward inhaled deeply and stared into my eyes as if they held the solution to the battle I could see raging within him. I had no way of knowing what he would ultimately decide, so I chose to use the moments I was certain to have left to touch his body, to make peace with whatever the future had in store for us today. I slowly moved my palm beneath the fabric of his shirt and slid it upwards to rest above his still heart, the piece of his body that, no matter the outcome of my request, he had promised would always be mine. Then I leaned in and tenderly, chastely, kissed his lips.

At first, he was hesitant to react, but then his arms tightened around me and his mouth moved against mine. After a few minutes of exchanging soft kisses, his lips broke from mine and he leaned his forehead against my own as he whispered the words that were music to my ears. "Slowly. We can try to do this slowly. But you have to promise me that you will tell me if I do something wrong. You have to promise me that we will stop if I come even remotely close to losing control."

I didn't even need time to consider his requests before I said, "I promise." I slipped my hand away from his chest and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his neck and my hands in his hair. I wrapped my feet behind his back as he released his hold on me so that he could slide us both toward the head of my bed. Once there, I moved so that I was kneeling over his lap and I began kissing him. He placed his hands on my ribcage, then, tentatively, slid them down until his fingers were caressing the skin of my waist. His thumbs stretched inward until they met and drew an arc around my belly button and then he retraced his path until his palms came to rest on my back.

I knew that I needed to take things slowly, like he said, but my body was surging with the electricity of his touch and my mind was buzzing with all of the parts of him that I wanted to see, to feel, to _taste_. It was hard to hold back, but somehow I managed to overcome my racing mind and body and concentrate on the leftover buttons of his shirt. The task was more difficult without the aid of my eyes, but I couldn't bring myself to stop kissing him, so my fingers blindly worked at his shirt until they finally managed to separate the two halves and reveal Edward's stone chest. He leaned forward so that I could slide the shirt over his shoulders, and when it was fully removed, I tossed it behind me, unconcerned with where it landed.

I was torn between continuing the dance of our mouths and pausing to admire his exposed skin, and, eventually, my curiosity won out. I leaned away from him and gazed in awe at the ethereal beauty of his chest and stomach. I had seen him like this only once before, in the meadow, but I hadn't fully examined his perfection then because I was preoccupied with the way his skin was sparkling in the sunlight. Now that I was free from that distraction, my fingers traced every line of his abdomen and then moved upwards to draw a spiral around his rock-hard nipples. His breathing became ragged and his hands moved from my back to clutch the blankets beneath us.

But it wasn't enough. I wanted to explore him further. So I gently pushed him down, with his compliance, his eyes never leaving mine as I lowered my head to his stomach and retraced the path of my fingers with my eager mouth. I could feel the heat gathering in my cheeks as I kissed and nipped at the two tiny nubs on his chest, but every fragment of nervousness caused by my innocence and inexperience was slipping away and being replaced by pure physical instinct. I didn't know how or why or what I was doing, but I did know that every cell in my body was screaming that I _needed _to do it. The feel of Edward's skin against my lips was becoming an addiction and I feared I would never be able to get enough of it.

I took my time learning everything there was to know about his upper body, but my meandering mouth eventually drew closer and closer to the edge of his jeans. His breathing, unnecessary as it was, became unsteady and more rapid with each passing inch, and when I grew bold and grasped the hem of his pants, unhooking the button, Edward let out a low growl and slid himself upright, softly squeezing my hands with his own.

At first, I was afraid that I had gone too far and he was going to put an end to my fun, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw a flash of mischief in them before his crooked smile captured my attention. He leaned in toward my ear, nuzzled against it with his nose and then whispered, "My turn." My heart began to race even faster as his hands returned to the exposed skin of my body and I closed my eyes and allowed myself to shut everything out but the spark of his cool touch on my fiery body. His fingertips gently rubbed my back and then slyly moved beneath the silk of my camisole. He gripped the fabric and moved it upward at a frustratingly slow pace, stopping his movements to huskily ask, "Is this okay?" I opened my eyes, bit my lip and gave him a timid smile before nodding my head in answer. As soon as I had given him the go-ahead, Edward was pulling the blue fabric up and over my head and throwing it haphazardly across the room.

His eyes drank in the sight of my body as every other part of him stopped functioning. He didn't breathe, didn't speak, didn't move; he merely looked at the flushed skin of my chest as if the sight had cast a spell upon him. I tried to remain still, but eventually I became restless and I placed my arms on the bed and arched my back away from him as he held me at my waist. My movement effectively broke him from his trance as he drew in a deep breath, and when I leaned in to kiss him, I inadvertently pressed my lower body against his. He half-groaned, half-hissed my name before his lips crashed into mine and I felt, for the very first time, just how much he truly did _desire _me. I experimentally rubbed against his hardened body and was enthralled when each of my movements was met with a low groan from Edward's throat. I thought my body was going to catch on fire as I felt him beneath me, through the layers of our clothing, and my hands took on a mind of their own as they moved between us and gripped the zipper of his jeans.

"Bel—la," Edward gasped, pulling my hands away from his pants and gripping my wrists behind my back in one of his fists before bringing his free hand up to cradle the back of my neck. I leaned my head back to welcome his kisses along my collarbone and when his cool lips moved to the scorching skin of my upper body, I struggled to catch my breath. His adoring mouth moved over my panting chest, kissing down the center of my ribs until he reached the fabric of my bra which he pulled away from my skin, sliced between his teeth, and, in one inhumanly fast maneuver, slid down my arms before tossing it to the floor.

"Hey, that's cheat—" I began, but when his icy mouth surrounded my nipple, my brain turned to mush and I forgot how to form words. Whimpers of "mmm" and "ahh" were the full extent of my vocal communication skills for a period of about five minutes as Edward kissed and licked and teased and lightly pinched the sensitive areas of my chest. When he blew his cool breath on the moistened nubs, a delightful shiver traveled throughout my entire body and I couldn't help the loud moan that escaped my lips. His kisses paused and I felt him smile against my stomach. He gradually made his way back up my body, and despite my attempts at getting him to meet my lips with his, he paused at my neck and lingered there, kissing and licking and then gently sucking my delicate skin, though I could tell he took care never to graze my body with his teeth. I pulled on his hair and bit at his ear and dug my fingers into his shoulders as deeply as I could manage, but still he remained in that one spot as if his lips had taken up residence there. Edward was driving my body insane with longing and I was fairly certain he knew it. And while it was definitely enjoyable, I thought it was high time he got a taste of his own exquisite medicine.

I raised my body ever so slightly and moved my hands, as stealthily as possible, back to his partially opened zipper. Edward was either too preoccupied with what he was doing, or he simply didn't mind what _I _was doing, because he didn't stop me as I finished the task of opening his jeans. He was currently sitting against the wall with me on top of him—not exactly a prime position for the removal of pants—so in an effort not to disturb him, I reached my hand between the fabrics of his boxers and his jeans in lieu of ridding his body of the garments altogether. I snaked my fingers through the opening of his boxers and wrapped them around the glorious new part of him that I had been searching for. Edward immediately broke away from my neck, sucked in his breath, and looked from my eyes to my hand and back again.

I bit my lip, smiled coyly, and then said, "Glad to see I finally got your attention," before I snugly gripped his cool skin and rapidly moved my hand back and forth. He groaned at the motion and then, before I was sure of what was happening, he had flipped us over and I was on my back, pinned against the bed. Edward's hands were placed on either side of my shoulders, supporting his weight as he hovered above me with a lustful expression on his face. I had somehow managed to keep my hold on him during our rapid position switch, and when I regained my bearings and realized this, I continued my stroking motions.

Edward reached between us with his one hand and gripped it over mine to halt my motions as he murmured, "Bella, love, you never _lost _my attention, I assure you." He released my hand, allowing me to continue my prior activities, and then leaned down to gently, slowly, passionately kiss my lips. For the first time, his tongue traced the edge of my mouth and then slipped inside, and I got caught up in the taste of him. It felt as though I was catching sweet, sugary snowflakes on the tip my tongue and my mind was unable to fathom anything except the desire for this feeling to never stop. I whimpered against his lips and allowed my own tongue to flicker against his as the strokes of my hand around him became more rapid. He drew back and whispered between panting breaths, "Isa—Bell—please—wait."

I did as he asked and stopped my movements, releasing him from my hold so I could, instead, grip the hem of his pants, and his boxers, and slide them slowly down the length of his legs. When my hands could move his clothing no further, I pushed them with my feet until they were successfully surrounding his ankles. Edward stood and kicked them the rest of the way off before he gripped the bottom hems of my pajama pants and tugged them off as well. As he stood in front of me, I was given ample time to admire his fully naked body, which was, unsurprisingly, the very definition of male anatomy at its perfection. I sighed as my eyes absorbed every inch of him, especially the many inches that stood at attention and, in my aroused mind, were just begging me to touch them.

Once my pants had joined the growing pile of our clothing, Edward knelt beside me on the bed and slowly kissed from my left foot to the bone of my hip, crossed and carefully sliced through the lacy fabric of my underwear, then repeated the process on my right side until he could easily clench the silk and lace shreds in his mouth, yank them out from under my body and powerfully blow them onto the covered floor. I blushed as he studied and traced his fingertips down the length of my now-naked body, and was shocked when his right hand slid between my legs and started touching my heated center. I cried out when one of his fingers slipped inside of me, and bit down on my lower lip when the first was joined by another. Edward's movements were slow, deliberate, maddening. I grasped my sheets in my fists and held on tightly as my body began to twist and writhe and spiral into nirvana. Edward had been wrong; he wasn't at risk of losing his control. If anything, he had _too much _of it. He continued with his slow finger thrusts, torturing me, angering me, forcing me to beg him to stop this wicked torment. "Edward," I gasped. "_Please_."

He returned to his one-armed hovering position, his fingers still within me as he kissed my lips tenderly and whispered, "Edward please _what_?" I looked up and saw his impish grin and in that moment, I was convinced: Edward Cullen was the devil incarnate. And despite his evil tendencies, I was wildly in love with him. I raised my hips against his movements and the moment I did so, he withdrew his fingers altogether. My body instantly felt the loss of his touch, and I would have protested had he not lowered himself to rest gently between my legs. All signs of tomfoolery were gone as his breathing became labored. He gazed into my eyes and then huskily said, "Bella, I love you and all I want is to make you happy. So far, this has gone far better than I ever could have hoped, but we are nearing a point now where I don't know what will happen to my control. I am fairly certain that I won't lose myself enough to hurt you, but I don't know if I'll be able to stop once we've begun. If you changed your mind, if this isn't what you want, you _have_ to tell me now." I knew a part of him was asking me to end this, was begging me to be safe, cautious but it wasn't the dominant part and I had no desire to stop what we had started.

I chose not to immediately answer him with words; instead I reached between us, grasped him with both of my hands and guided him to the part of my body that desperately craved his attention. When he showed no signs of moving toward me, my hips lifted, inviting him into me, but still he did not budge. "Edward, I want this. I want _you_. I love you. _Please_. Now." I watched as his eyes changed from a golden honey to a deep chestnut and then I felt him slowly slide into my body.

It was painful at first as my narrow opening stretched and formed around his hardness, and, though I tried not to, I bit down on my lip and winced in discomfort. Edward noticed instantly and was about to withdraw from me, but I scratched my fingernails down his back and commanded, "Stay." He complied, moving unhurriedly and carefully watching my expression at every moment. After no more than a minute of steady advances and soreness Edward had reached my body's barrier and in one swift thrust, he broke through it. I cried out, but managed a feeble smile of reassurance when he pulled back slightly, so he once again slid deeply into me.

He rested there for the briefest of instants and then restarted his motions. I heard him softly moan, "Isabella," before he began to pick up the range and pace of his movements. He kissed my lips gently as I whimpered into his mouth, and then traced their outline with his tongue. I removed my hands from his back and brought them up to fist in my hair, twisting strands around my fingers and forcefully tugging on them in an effort to distract myself from the vexatious sensations that his mouth was inflicting upon my swollen lips.

Seconds later, he gasped and the color of his eyes grew darker, until they were on the brink of pure ebony. "Bella, your lip—you taste—" he sputtered. For the first time since I had known him, Edward's expression was completely unguarded. I saw his every emotion in the sable pools of his eyes. I saw his longing, his raging thirst. I saw his inward battle to keep the evil within him at bay. And I saw the reason for his struggle: blood from my lip—the one I had bitten repeatedly this afternoon—was staining his mouth. I knew that I should be scared. I knew that the taste of my blood on his tongue would be an almost insurmountable temptation to his instincts. But my reaction to Edward in that moment was the same as it had always been: I could not bring myself to fear him. I trusted him now, just as I always had, to keep the monster away. I trusted him to protect me. I couldn't bring myself to stop his movements because Edward making love to me was completing my body in the same way that his devotion had fulfilled the longing in my heart.

I saw him tremble as he licked the blood from his mouth before he let out a guttural growl, forcefully gripped my wrists above my head as if restraining my movements and then began thrusting into me more vigorously. Despite his roughness, the feeling of his body penetrating mine became more and more satisfying and stimulating as the minutes passed. Every muscle in my body was humming with electricity, sparking bursts of energy and passion each time he withdrew and winding me tighter and tighter when he plunged deeply inside of me. I lifted my hips and matched his movements, yearning for release, certain that I was going to explode. I wrapped my legs around him and struggled against his hold on my wrists. I wanted to touch him, tease him, rake my nails over his stone body as I continued my slow ascent into oblivion. I moaned and cried out and gasped his name as he turned every cell in my body into a live wire that sent currents of aching need coursing through me.

He began showering my face, my neck, my chest with kisses, and when I felt a tugging sensation where the blood rapidly pulsed through my veins, I realized that he was sucking on my neck. He released my hands and gently dug one set of his fingertips into the skin of my left thigh as he pulled it upwards, forcing it to bend and form around his lower back. The adjustment allowed him to sink even deeper within me, and the air filled with a snarling cry that I could scarcely believe had stemmed from my throat. The sensations should have been painful, but instead they served only to increase my pleasure. His groans mingled with mine and soon all of the sounds and the smells and the tastes and the feelings building within the room pushed me further and further until I toppled over the edge into ecstasy, my body shivering and pulsing as I peaked, then slowly floated down from what was undoubtedly the greatest high in the world.

Seconds later, Edward drove into me one last time before I felt his body pulsating deep inside of mine, his movements joined by a muffled shout and what sounded like ripping fabric echoing near my ear. When the throbbing stopped, he rolled onto his back beside me and pulled my blanket up to cover my still-quivering form. But unlike the many nights where he stayed on top of the blanket while I was nestled warmly inside of it, he also covered himself and pulled me against his cool, marble skin. I closed my eyes and focused on preventing my heart from beating out of my chest as I snuggled against him and continued to ride on the waves of sheer bliss. I was convinced that I could stay right here for an eternity and never be happier.

Once my body returned as close to normal as it was ever going to get, I opened my eyes and followed the slow path that my fingers had been making on Edward's bare chest as he held me tightly. I stole a glance at his face as my palm came to rest just above his heart, and, when I did so, I made two distinct observations: first, Edward's unruly hair was sprinkled with some sort of white fuzz-like substance and second, his eyes were closed tightly and his mouth was pressed into a thin, straight line. If it hadn't been for the latter, the sight of what I assumed to be feathers suspended amid his copper tresses—escapees from the large gash in my pillow—would have caused me to giggle. As it were, the seriousness of his expression brought all of my lighthearted, jesting thoughts to an abrupt standstill. As I studied him, I wished that I could hear what he was thinking, that he would share with me whatever secrets he was hiding behind his closed eyelids.

Then again, it was very likely that I should be careful what I wished for. Would I be able to stand it if he was unhappy, if he regretted what I considered to be the most perfect experience of my life? Would I be able to handle the knowledge if I hadn't pleased him as I had intended, if we were, yet again, on unequal footing? Thanks to the onrush of such disheartening questions, my lovers high was rapidly fading, and in its wake was left all of my previously-abandoned insecurities. I fought to overcome them once again, forced myself to remember his words, his smiles, his touches. I chanted to myself that Edward loved me, that I was just allowing my foolish imagination to run away with me, and, gradually, I relaxed. I had gotten everything that I had wanted and I resolved that _nothing_, not even my persistent reservations, was going to spoil this day.

I turned my head and glanced at the alarm clock perched on my nightstand. Ugh. _Except for maybe that_ I thought as the glowing numbers brought me back to the reality that Edward's family was expecting us at their house in a little less than thirty minutes. And I still needed to take a shower and rummage through my belongings to find clothing that would conceal the marks that I was fairly certain Edward's delicious lips had left on my neck. His family was perceptive enough without the aid of visible red markings and I felt it was prudent for the preservation of my sanity that Edward and I keep our lovemaking a secret for as long as possible.

Though it was the absolute last thing I felt like doing, I decided to get my blissfully exhausted butt out of bed. I glanced at Edward and grinned as a touch to my head revealed a similar tuft of white nestled between my own dampened locks. I added another task to my pre-party to-do list: remove all fluffy stuff from my tangled hair. I leaned in and kissed his cheek, hoping to catch a glimpse of his gorgeous honey eyes before I left to take a shower. Edward's eyes fluttered open and, while his expression was unquestionably solemn, I simply couldn't take him seriously with all of those feathers on his head. I started to laugh.

"What could you possibly find humorous about this situation?" he asked in an almost harsh tone, and, while I immediately sobered up, I refused to allow his current mood to weaken my lifted spirits.

"Oh, I don't know," I replied. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I just had the most incredibly amazing physical encounter with the man I love. Or maybe it has something to do with the sight of your perfect head covered in feathers." I thought about it for a moment while I tried to read his expression and then continued, "No, no. It's definitely just the feathers. By the way, what did my pillow ever do to you?" I couldn't help it when the giggles started again.

"Isabella," he said sternly as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, "This is _not_ funny. I was close, much, much too close, to completely losing my control. Those shreds in your pillow—they could have been your neck." His voice became a whisper as he hung his head in shame. "They almost were. I almost _killed_ you."

His admission barely affected me; after all, it wasn't the first time he had almost killed me, and I had come to accept the dangers that went along with loving him from the moment I learned what he was. "But you didn't." I said firmly. "So stop beating yourself up about it. I'm fine, better than fine, actually—I'm elated. Please let go of whatever guilt is running amuck in that brain of yours and be happy, smile, laugh." He sighed, but his expression didn't change. "Please, Edward, for me? For my birthday?" He pursed his lips, and then, ever so slowly, his mouth twisted upward into a lopsided grin.

"Alright, love, I'll let it go. For today. But tomorrow, we are going to discuss this." I could handle that, as long as it could wait until tomorrow. I was going to have to rethink this whole birthday situation; while I definitely didn't wish to celebrate another one, and I still wasn't exactly thrilled about receiving gifts and being shoved into the spotlight, pulling the birthday card certainly had its perks.

I gave Edward a broad grin and a peck on the cheek before I said, "Thank you. Now, I must go get a shower and get ready for my party and _you _should get dressed and de-feathered before Charlie comes home and finds you here and chases after you with his gun." The idea of that actually happening was preposterous because there was no way that Charlie could surprise a vampire in general, let alone one with a built-in thought detector. And even if, by some miracle, my dad _did_ manage to walk in on Edward before he became decently clothed again, there was no way he would ever be able to catch him. Even if Charlie turned into the crazed, over-protective father I knew he could be. Although, it might be rather entertaining to watch Edward running around my room naked as Charlie pursued him with a shotgun. Scratch that. Charlie didn't have to be there. Edward could just run around my room in all his glory. Yes, yes he—I shook my head to clear it of impure thoughts. _Focus Bella _my mind commanded._ Shower!_

I held the sheet against my skin as I leaned over the bed in search of my bath towel—I spotted it sticking out from underneath Edward's wrinkled jeans—and shivered with delight as I felt his cool fingertips trace up and down my spine. My heart started racing again and I hopped out of bed, grabbed the towel and quickly wrapped it around me on my way to the door. I needed to put some space between myself and Edward, and I _needed _to stop thinking about him naked—as if that were possible—so that I could keep myself from losing my head and attacking him with the intent of repeating our activities from minutes ago. Over and over and over again.

Screw the party. Who cared about the stupid party? I took two steps toward my bed, toward Edward and his divine nakedness before I remembered. Oh, right. _Alice _cared about the party. As in, nosy Alice who will come looking for us if we don't arrive precisely on time in—I glanced at my clock again—nineteen minutes. "Freaking little pixie party-nazi." I mumbled under my breath as I headed toward the door again, trying not to trip over the pile of our clothing. I heard Edward laugh softly when I spoke, and I turned to face him as I was stepping in the hallway.

I looked toward the bed…but it was empty, and the sound of Edward's laughter no longer reached my ears. My eyes scanned the room frantically as I called out his name. My mind was filled with confusion, worry, wondering not how, but _why _he would have disappeared. I checked inside my closet and underneath my bed. I ran throughout the rest of the house, filling the silence with my pleas for him to answer me. But he was nowhere to be found, and without any conscious idea as to why I was doing so, I found myself running to the window, and laboriously lifting it open so that I could poke my head out and search the forest for any sign of him. I could see nothing through the pouring rain but trees and darkness, so I drew my drenched head back inside as my entire body trembled from fear and the chill of the cool air against my wet skin.

And then I heard his voice, his snarl, and I whipped my head around toward the sound. As I did so, the space seemed to shift around me as colors and textures darkened and blended. Suddenly, I was no longer in my bedroom, and it was _not_ Edward that I was hearing. The silver-wrapped presents and the tiered cake and the flowers were blurs in my peripheral vision that I barely noticed as I stared into the eyes of death. I saw the thirst, the malice, the indifference in them, and I reached my arms out to ward them off as I whispered, "Jasper, what are you doing?" His eyes flashed to my hand and I followed their path, noticing for the first time that on my fingertip was a tiny sliver of blood. Instinctively, I began to back away. He crouched down and growled at me, and when I saw that he was about to lunge in my direction, I screamed and clenched my eyes shut. I waited for the inevitable, for his razor-like teeth to pierce my quivering flesh, but the seconds passed, and my end never came.

I was on the verge of passing out when I opened my eyes to find that the setting had shifted around me yet again. I was standing with Edward in the forest as the rain poured down around us, but it was as if we were standing beneath an invisible canopy for my vision of his rigid stance, his emotionless eyes was completely unhindered by the falling drops. He started speaking to me, and although I knew that it was Edward's voice, I didn't want to believe that it was truly him that was talking. "Bella, we're leaving. My family and myself. I don't want you to come with me," he said, almost mechanically, without any tinge of the warmth and love and hope that should have been present in the tone of his impossible words. If anything, they were laced with callousness, resentment.

In my mind's effort to find meaning in Edward's nonsensical words, I repeated them aloud, inflecting them in such a way that my choppy sentence became a question. "You…don't…want…me?" Once the words were out and their significance began to seep into my brain, I felt my breathing progress toward hyperventilation.

"No," he replied to the question that I never meant for him to answer. I didn't want his detached, beautiful voice to spin a tale of tragedy, of heartbreak. I searched his face, his eyes for any element of untruth, longing to find even the slightest discrepancy between his body and his voice that could negate his cruelty. But there was nothing there but truth and finality and conclusion. I placed my palms on my temples and shook my head from side to side, trying to make it stop. _Wrong_ I kept thinking. _This was all horribly wrong._

"You're not good for me, Bella," robot Edward continued without compassion, without remorse for the way each and every word he spoke caused an irreparable fissure in my chest. He cast one last cold, fleeting glance in my direction, and then he was gone. I doubled over and gasped for air as tears began to distort my vision and racking sobs lodged in my throat. Even as I struggled to breathe, I forced myself upright to run after him. I needed to find him, touch him, hold him, beg him to make this all go away, plead with him to never stop loving me.

I ran through the dripping wet trees, their branches striking my face with a whip-like ferocity, their roots causing my unstable feet to stumble repeatedly until I fell hard upon my knees, lost and scared and falling apart. I looked to the sky and wailed his name endlessly until my voice was hoarse and my tears ran dry and I had nothing left inside of me. I closed my eyes and fell backwards to the ground as the darkness enveloped and suffocated me. I had no energy with which to draw breath, no reason to compel my thoughts, no remnants of a heart remaining to allow feeling. I did nothing. I had nothing. I _was_ nothing but the shadow of a girl on the forest floor, shattered and wheezing and yearning to die.

My eyes snapped open and I realized that I was gasping for air as they adjusted to the darkness and I recognized my all-too-familiar ceiling. I hadn't looked at much else for the past two days because I was too confused and exhausted and broken to coax myself out of bed. The fact that I hadn't left my room was of no consequence; I could leave, I could run away and travel to the ends of the civilization and, still, the reality of my life would remain unchanged. There was nowhere on this earth that could offer me comfort.

So, on the first day, I had chosen to remain here, in my bedroom, where the tragedy of my love story had begun. I had welcomed every sight, every sound, every smell that was a reminder of the love, the future, the _life _that I had lost in one extraordinary, catastrophic day. Because, however painful and tormenting they may be, they at least offered proof to my fractured mind that the man who had enraptured my heart and soul had really, truly existed. I forced myself to reminisce, to extract every minute detail of our time together from my brain before I fell apart and lost the only piece of him that I had left: his memory.

Remembering him, though, took a toll on my weary body, and after limited hours of consciousness, sleep claimed me. Not surprisingly, I dreamt of that day with perfect clarity, skipping effortlessly from one significant event to the next. I watched as I soared into heaven during our lovemaking, then plummeted deeply into hell, first at the party when a foolish accident had pitted brother against brother and then again as he led me into the forest, toward my execution, mere hours after I had given him everything.

When I awoke, screaming and crying and more exhausted than I had been before I drifted to sleep, I was physically being held in Charlie's arms but in every other domain of reality, I was in purgatory. I was not alive without him and yet he had not been humane enough to grant me death. I had become the personification of irony—I loved him for teaching me how to love and I hated him for revealing that it was all an elaborate ruse. I could not bear to think of him and yet I struggled not to forget that he had been.

After I quieted down and Charlie returned to the sanctuary of his room, I slipped easily into a repeating pattern of dreaming and waking and falling further into despair. The dream never changed, and I regained consciousness enough at one point to wonder if my mind was trying to show me something that I had missed, something that I could have done to change the outcome of my life. It didn't really matter though, because I could not change the past. I could only relive my history through the nightmare and wait for the point in the future—and I had no doubts that it would come—when my mind would shatter into a thousand pieces and join the fragments of my heart and soul on the hardwood floor.


	2. SHE IS THE SUNLIGHT

**In the last chapter, we learned that Bella and Edward made love on her birthday, before the typical **_**New Moon **_**"RAWR! I'm going to eat you!" events, which lead to Edward leaving Forks with the rest of his family.**

**In this chapter, we hear from Edward and gain a little bit of insight into how he could justify leaving Bella after they had been so intimate. Onward, lovelies. Oh, and, as always, reviews are appreciated!**

**2 ~ She is the Sunlight**

"…**If loving her is heartache for me**

**And if holding her means that I have to bleed**

**Then I am the martyr and love is to blame**

**She is the healing and I am the pain**

**She lives in a daydream**

**Where I don't belong**

**She is the sunlight**

**And the sun is gone…"**

_**She is the Sunlight **_**by Trading Yesterday**

_**Tuesday, September 13 to Wednesday, September 14**_

_**Edward's POV**_

_This is a mistake_. That's what all of them were thinking from the moment that I had asked them to agree to move away from Forks. I couldn't lie about my motives, not anymore; I had already committed enough treachery for one day, so I stuck to telling the broader truth—that I feared for Bella's safety when she was around us—and they were all left to come to their own false conclusions. After what had happened with Jasper, most of them had taken my words to mean that I was afraid that one of us would ultimately lose control and attack her and they had no choice, after the events of her party, but to admit that her safety _was_ at risk. But Jasper's loss of control wasn't the main reason I knew we had to leave.

I had overcome my fears of one of us attacking her over the past few months because I had promised myself that I would constantly be there to protect her. But now I knew that I wouldn't always be strong enough to uphold my self-made promise, and that realization had started long before the party. My decision to leave had been in the making since this afternoon when I completely lost control and made love to Bella.

Despite all of my years exercising caution and control, I was still just a 17-year-old man when it came to my basic desires, my _lust, _around Bella_. _Her body was always a temptation, and, for awhile, I thought that I could control my human instincts, just as I had controlled the monster that thirsted for her blood. But then she had practically begged me to take what my body had been craving for so long, and, though I desperately tried, I didn't have the strength of will to deny her.

Through the haze of my lust, I imagined that I could control myself enough, that I could be gentle and safe and give us both what we desired without harming her in any way. I imagined that I was just a man and she was just a woman and that what we were doing was natural and good and _right_. Then I had kissed her, tasting the few droplets of blood on her lips, and the monster had reared its ugly head and demanded satisfaction. I could feel my control slipping away, and I should have pulled back, I should have withdrawn myself from the temptation. But I was already too far gone with desire, so I just struggled to maintain my control.

I couldn't stop touching her, kissing her, and as I tasted the delicate skin of her neck, as my tongue grazed the pulsing vein beneath her flesh, I started to imagine what it would taste like if I bit her. I could practically feel the sweet, warm liquid trickling down my throat, soothing the ever-present burning, and as my body found its release inside of her, I almost gave in to the monster's desires. I had managed to draw back at the last possible moment and my teeth sliced through the lavender fabric of her pillow rather than her soft, white skin. Still, the damage had been done.

As my body began to unwind from the pleasures of making love to her, I knew that someday soon, I would have to leave. The experience of loving her physically had changed me, had opened my eyes to a second monster that dwelled in the depths of my body, and I knew I was not strong enough to fight them both. Every time I was with her now, I would crave her body and her blood. And while one of those desires was attainable without hurting her, I knew, after today, that eventually, I would give in to both cravings and make the biggest mistake of my existence.

So I would leave her, save her from the horrid things that my love could do to her. The idea of never seeing her again made the area of my heart ache as if the organ had been ripped from my chest. I did not _want _to let her go, but I _needed _to. I had to protect her life, and since I knew she would never leave on her own, I had to go against my instinctual pull toward her and force her away. It was for the best; it would keep her safe. And her safety would just have to be enough. Thus, the notion to leave had already been running amuck in my head when we had arrived at the party; Jasper's attack had merely been the straw that broke the camel's back.

None of my family knew the truth, though, not even Alice. I suspected she had been too busy, first with planning the party and now with consoling Jasper, to _see _what was happening. But I supposed I should be thankful for that. Her ignorance meant that I didn't have to divulge the details of my indiscretions to everyone or fight for a choice that my own heart refused to support. If my family had learned the truth, I knew we would be staying, and I would be practically burnt at the stake for even entertaining the idea of leaving. We had all been raised to uphold the highest moral caliber, and my leaving after sharing such a monumental experience with Bella would never be acceptable in my family's eyes. They would never understand the truth, so I needed them to believe the lie. For now, they did, and they had all decided to respect my wishes, as it was my relationship with Bella that was falling apart. They may have all been thinking that it was a mistake, but, regardless, they were allowing me to make it.

***

As we were packing up our necessities in the early morning hours, I learned that Alice had merely been biding her time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike, to tell me what an absolute fool I was being. She entered my room, crossed her arms against her chest and simply stared at me, her thoughts a guarded mystery. I stood there in silence, waiting for her patience to break, and, finally, after a few long, quiet moments, she spoke. "What did you say to her, Edward?" she demanded, tapping her foot in irritation. My gaze fell to the floor, the guilt overwhelming me as I contemplated how much I should tell her.

"I told her what she needed to hear to let us go," I stated unemotionally. I quickly donned my mask of indifference so that my sister would never discover all of the chinks in my armor, because if Alice saw my internal struggle, if she knew that a part of me was fighting the urge to run back to Bella, then she would do everything in her power to intensify the fight and persuade me to stay. I could not allow that to happen.

"Well, if your goal was to shatter her spirit, then you succeeded," she said vehemently, and then she opened her mind and I instantly felt like I was suffocating. Images of Bella flooded through my brain, and each one was more painful than the last. I saw her sobbing on the forest floor, drenched by the rain and shivering from the cold. I had done that to her. Then she was in her living room, wrapped in a blanket, her cheeks stained by tears as she hugged her knees to her chest and stared at nothing. The image shifted to her room, her sobs, her screams filling the air as she tossed back and forth in her bed. "Don't go," she shouted and then she was awake, alone, shaking as she curled into a ball and fell apart. I had done that to her. The visions ended, Alice's thoughts were blank, but I still saw my Bella and how I had destroyed her.

I hated myself in that moment, and Alice had decided to take advantage of my self-loathing. "I don't know what would ever possess you to hurt Bella that way, but whatever your excuse, it isn't good enough. You have to fix it. You have to go apologize and make this better. You have to—"

"No, Alice," I stated as my heart started to cry out that she was right. "I'm no good for her. I never wanted to hurt her but if I have to break her heart in order to save her then I'll just have to deal with the shame of what I've done."

"Save her? Save her from what, Edward? From happiness? From love? Because up until last night, that was what you were giving her, and I don't really understand how someone could need saved from having everything they want in life."

"Look, Alice, I—"

"Shut it, Edward. I didn't come her for you to explain yourself because there is nothing you could say that could make this understandable to me. I came here to show you what you've done and to tell you that, before I follow through with this slipshod plan of yours, I want you to march yourself right on back to Bella's house and take a long, hard look at her. I want you to see her as broken as you've made her and to search within yourself and determine if you have it in you to walk away without fixing her. Personally, I think once you see her again you'll realize what an idiot you're being and get down on your knees and beg her to take you back. But if you can manage to walk away, then, maybe, I'll respect your wishes and leave her behind because, even though I'll miss her terribly, I'll know that she deserves better."

I clenched my jaw and looked into Alice's eyes, knowing that she wouldn't back down from her request, but unable to agree to the torture of seeing Bella again. I knew what Alice was hoping to accomplish with her demands, that she was trying to salvage her friendship and my relationship and this family. But at what cost? She couldn't see the threat I posed to Bella now, she couldn't comprehend how dangerous it was for us to stay. I sighed and, once again, hung my head. I had to be strong now. I had to remember how close I had come to ending Bella's life and then I would be strong enough to see her and let her go. I squared my shoulders, my resolve now renewed and strengthened and said, "Alright, Alice. I'll go to her. But I trust you won't get your hopes up too high, because I have already made my decision."

I didn't wait for her response; instead, I raced through the house and out the door, running like hell through the forest. A part of me welcomed the torture that I knew was coming because it meant that I would get to see her this one last time, to once again memorize the sight of her, the smell of her hair, perhaps, even, the taste of her skin. It meant that I would be able to whisper the goodbye I should have said instead of the venomous lies that had spewed forth from my mouth.

I arrived at her house quickly and followed my usual route to her window. I noiselessly shimmied it open and leapt inside of her room. As soon as I was inside, I heard her uneven breaths, her pleading words, her quiet sniffles. "Please love me," she begged, and my heart fell to pieces at my feet. I had always struggled to convince her of the truth of my love and in a few short minutes of lies she had all-too-willingly believed that I no longer cared for her. I knew that I had wanted her to believe me today, to be shocked enough that she wouldn't argue with me and convince me to stay as she so easily could have. But I had always imagined that, eventually, she would see through my pretenses, that she would understand that I had left her out of love, that I had done what I thought was right. Now I knew that she had believed every blasphemous word, that she truly thought I didn't love her anymore. The pieces of my heart were set ablaze with the pain of this realization.

Without any conscious thought to my actions, I found myself walking toward her bed. I knelt down next to her and gently traced the tracks of tears on her cheeks with my fingertip. I knew it was wrong, that she could awaken at any moment and find me here, but the need to comfort her was too strong to subdue. Damn Alice for all of her meddling! Because what I wanted most right now was to remain in this spot, awaken my Bella, and beg for her forgiveness. I wanted to hold her and kiss her and tell her that everything was going to be alright. I wanted—

I was broken out of my thoughts as she flung herself from side to side, her nightmare apparently increasing its intensity. Her movements had caused her comforter to fall to the floor and I gasped as I drank in the sight of her body. She was clad in only underwear and a tank top, her body glistening with sweat. And scattered throughout her alabaster skin were bruises in various shades of purple and yellow. I could see on her thighs and ribcage where my fingertips had clenched her too strongly, while her neck and chest were adorned with the evidence of where my mouth had kissed her too roughly.

All thoughts of staying here, of being with her again, were instantly gone. I had received a much-needed reminder of my reason for leaving. I had seen first-hand the evidence of my lost control. And as much as I wished to soothe her emotional pain right now, I knew that, in the end, it would be better for her if I left without further complicating our situation. She needed to move on with her life, to find someone who could love her in every way without hurting her. She needed to get away from me, and I needed to let her.

I lightly kissed her forehead, stood, and walked toward the window. I cast one quick, final glance in her direction, and then I retreated from her room, and her life. Isabella was free now. I wouldn't be the monster hiding in her closet anymore.


	3. ALL OF THIS PAST

**So, Edward has left Bella and she is struggling in the aftermath. This chapter deals with her pain. You may want to have tissues on hand just in case I did my job right. Onward, lovelies.**

* * *

**3 ~ All of this Past**

**"Here I go again, slipping further away**

**Letting go again, of what keeps me in place**

**I like it here, but it scares me to death**

**There is nothing here...**

**I find comfort here, 'cause I know what is lost**

**Hope is always fear, for the pain it may cost**

**And I have searched for the reason to go on**

**I've tried and I've tried, but it's taking me so long**

**I might be better off closing my eyes**

**And God will come looking for me in time**

**All of this dust, all of this past**

**All of this over and gone and never coming back**

**All of this forgotten but not by me…"**

**_All of This Past _****by Sarah Bettens**

_**Thursday, September 15 to Saturday, September 24**_

_**Bella's POV**_

I watched the seconds on my clock pass into minutes and then the minutes pass into hours. The days slipped slowly past. I grew tired of my bed because it was all wrong. Being in it assaulted my senses with the memory of him. My pillow, my sheets, my blanket, all of them smelled like him, and even though I didn't want the memory to disappear, I was finding it difficult to bear the torture it had become to be surrounded by the bitterly sweet smell of him. Inhaling the wintry honey scent muddled my emotions and deluded my brain. I could see him lying next to me, hear him whispering sweet nothings into my ear, singing to me, soothing me, _loving _me. My lips were chilled by the ghosts of his kisses; my skin crackled and hummed where his iced fingertips had often affectionately brushed a stray lock of hair from my face.

In my tormented mind I could feel him there with me, the way it used to be, the way I longed for it to be still. But then, inevitably, the cruelties of reality would intrude upon the blissful ignorance of my hallucinations. I would touch the spot where his body should have been and it was too warm, too soft, too obvious that the sensations created within my head had all been part of an elaborate illusion. My perception of the real world was in a constant state of disarray as I lay motionless in my bed, and I started to question my sanity.

I wanted to preserve my memories, but I realized as time went by that, in order to salvage what remained of my mind, I _needed_ to escape them. So I decided to pass the lingering hours swaying in my grandmother's rocking chair, staring into the forest without really seeing anything through the rain-spattered panes. I concentrated on matching the rhythm of the chair with the cadence of my breaths. Inhale, rock back. Exhale, rock forward. I refused to allow my thoughts to wander to any other topic than my breathing. I started sinking and, for the first time since my world had been turned upside down, the pain began to fade away.

Eventually my eyes glazed over as I stared at the newly out of focus world in front of me. I found that the motion of the chair combined with a lack of focus lulled me into a state somewhere between my conscious and unconscious world. Since neither state brought me any happiness, I was quite comfortable remaining in limbo, alive but not really living. I briefly registered the day changing into night. Though I was exhausted, I could not bring myself to return to the darkness and pain that hovered like a cloud above my bed.

Sometime during the night, I must have fallen asleep and Charlie must have checked on me because when I awoke, I was covered by the quilt that had once rested on the rocking chair that had become my asylum. I quickly shook the quilt off of myself and onto the floor that it had fallen to yesterday. Warmth was no longer a comfort; it was simply another reminder of what I had lost. I stood, the movement of my limbs robotic as I made my way to the window and easily lifted it open. I shivered as the cold air reached my bare skin and my slow breaths whirled into a fog on the glass panes. I stared into the gray-green trees, no longer searching for a familiar shadowy figure in their midst, nor wishing that I could rewind the hands of time, nor _feeling _the internal hollow_._ My life, my _self_ had simply become _nothing_.

My arms hung limply at my sides as I turned away from the forest view, my eyes barely glimpsing the plate of crackers and tumbler of water that sat, untouched, on my desktop, secondary evidence of Charlie's visit. I could not remember the last time I had eaten, but, like my mind, my stomach relished in its emptiness. I passed my desk without another glance, and seated myself in the comfort of the chair. My body automatically resumed its rocking motion as I stared at the blurry world before me and I slipped, willingly, back into the oblivion.

Some time later, my ears registered the sound of my bedroom door slowly opening. Heavy footsteps sounded across my floor until Charlie appeared in front of me, a distorted mess of flannel blocking the raindrops from my view. I did not look at his face or even acknowledge his presence. He spoke to me but I made no effort to listen because there were no words that he could say that would change what my life had become. I just continued rocking, patiently waiting for him to grow quiet and then leave. I heard him sigh as he turned away from me to close the window before he granted my silent prayer and left me to the comforting nothing of my room.

Charlie came to check on me frequently over the next few days, so it was no surprise when my bedroom door creaked open and I heard him enter my room. There was something different about his footsteps this time, though. They seemed softer, hesitant, and as I felt warm fingertips trace my forehead and cheek, shocking me into a modicum of awareness, my eyes snapped to the trembling figure before me, and I instantly knew why the sounds had been different.

Renée was standing in front of my re-opened window now, not Charlie. I only allowed myself to look at her for a fleeting moment before turning my eyes away and blocking all thoughts of her from my mind. I couldn't allow myself to dwell on her unusually serious expression, or her red eyes and trails of tears, because, if I did, I would be dangerously close to losing the numbness that had shielded me from the constant pain. I wasn't ready to feel yet. I just—I needed more time. So I kept on rocking.

After a few moments of my ignoring her presence, I felt warmth surround my shoulders and wetness from Renée's teardrops fall onto my forehead. I should have been comforted by her presence, her hugs, her whispered reassurances as she awkwardly rocked back and forth with me, but I was repulsed by them instead. I cringed at every sensation, recoiling from her touches and her displays of unconditional love tinged with sadness that I would not allow myself to reciprocate. When Renée felt me flinch, she abruptly pulled away from me, drew in a deep breath and, to my surprise, shed her free-spirited quasi-parent robes and became a bona fide mother.

She drew in a deep breath and, with a gentle firmness, she lifted my chin with her fingertips and commanded that I look at her, _listen _to her. The requests she made were so simple, and I had no doubts that she deserved my compliance, but I couldn't grant it. I closed my eyes and left them that way after she repeatedly moved herself into my line of sight; I did my very best to tune out the sound of her voice. I wished that she would just give up and allow me to be at peace in the world in which I had found comfort, even if she could not understand it. I found myself internally counting the sways of the rocking chair, and as time stretched on and my reaction never altered, Renée must have finally realized that she was not getting through to me because she sighed heavily and left the room. I was unable to fully descend into my realm of solace, though, because, minutes later, she returned with Charlie.

I heard something scrape across my floor but I did not look in the direction of the sound. Hushed whispers drifted through the air, drawers opened and closed, fabric rustled, unidentifiable plops and scrapes and zips and jangles reached my ears, but nothing distracted me from my rhythm. Nothing. Until my father said _his_ name.

One word, one low, menacing utterance was all it took to trigger my destruction. My breaths immediately came in rapid, heavy bursts and the pain in my chest roared to life as reality came crashing into my carefully constructed stupor. My hands clawed at my shirt in their desperate attempt to fill the hole where my heart should have been, and my broken body slid from the rocking chair and onto the floor. The dam that had been holding back my tears broke with a vengeance, and I sobbed a week's worth of misery in a matter of seconds.

Renée and Charlie were at my side in an instant, both of them worried, but both of them unaware of how to handle my sudden change in temperament. Renée started rubbing my back and her touch made me sit up rigidly and scoot away from her until I was cornered against the wall, my eyes red and wide and wild as I looked at her in fury. I did not want to be touched. I did not want to be anything. I did not want to _feel_ anything. My breaths faltered as my fit of crying consumed the limited energy that I possessed; I began gasping for air. My knees moved upwards and I held them to my core as my chin fell to my chest and I tried to curl myself inward; I wanted to _disappear._

But I could not escape the images that passed rapidly through my mind. A year's worth of memories from a time when I was drunk on love flooded my head; I started shaking from withdrawal. A thousand broken promises vibrated velvet into my ears; I held my palms to my head to muffle the sound. I closed my eyes and began rocking again, not caring that the chair was gone, not caring that I was losing it, but hoping, praying, _pleading_ for my refuge.

Renée started talking to me and her words gradually broke through the painful onslaught of my memories. It felt as though everything she said was received by my brain out of order, though, because nothing really made sense. I heard words like "Florida" and "flight" and "forget". With trembling hands, I smoothed my tear-stained hair from my eyes and risked a glance at my mother's face. Instead of focusing on her, though, my watery eyes were captivated by the opened suitcase lying on my bed, the suitcase that was filled to the brim with my trivial possessions. I quickly glanced around the room, finally noticing my open, emptied drawers, my barren closet, my picture-less walls. The sights immediately connected all of Renée's confusing words. She was trying to take me back to Florida with her.

I looked to Charlie, feelings of betrayal and abandonment rapidly rising to the forefront of my emotions as I shook my head and calmly said, "No." My voice sounded strange to me, and my throat stung with the rarity of its use. I swallowed hard and grasped the windowsill above me, pulling myself to my unsteady feet.

Renee stopped talking and stared at me, a mixture of relief and astonishment evident on her face. "What, baby?" she asked as the shock wore off.

I crossed my arms in front of myself, wrapping them around my torso and taking a few moments to inject a measure of strength into my words. "No," I repeated sternly. I looked her directly in the eye. "I'm not going." The tears abruptly slowed as my sadness blended with anger. They thought that forcing me to move away was going to fix me, but they were horribly wrong. I could not be fixed. Not anymore. I was shattered into a million pieces and Renée and Charlie simply didn't have the power to put me back together. In one brief instant, my life had turned me from a dark fairy tale princess into humpty dumpty, and all the kings horses and kings men that may have been able to fix me had high-tailed it out of Forks, had left me behind without so much as a backward glance.

"Bella, it will be good for you to get out of here. At least for awhile," Charlie said as I turned to look at him. His eyes were tired and there were dark circles beneath them. His hair was disheveled as if he had been running his fingers through it entirely too often and his expression was sad. Maybe I should have felt bad for him, for the trouble I was causing him, but I felt nothing but anger as I scowled at him. He grimaced, ceasing his words with a sigh.

Renee picked up where he had left off, some of her usual peppiness returning in her exuberant, hopeful words. "You're going to love Florida, honey. And soon you won't even remember why—"

I cut her off, absolutely livid at what she had been about to suggest. "Not remember? NOT REMEMBER?!?" I started shouting. For the first time in my life I was furiously yelling at my mother. "So you think that by forcing me to move with you to some stupid town completely across the country I'm just going to miraculously forget what happened to me here? That I'm going to forget what it was like to be told by the man that I gave everything to that he doesn't want me anymore? That I'm going to forget how, in one afternoon, I lost absolutely everything that made my life worth living? Well, guess what?" A sarcastic smile touched my face as I spat out my next words, "I _wish_ I could forget! Okay? I wish I could think without thinking about _him_. I wish I could feel without feeling for _him._ I wish I could _exist_ without _him_. But I don't know how." I was crying again now, silent tears that painfully descended from my tired eyes. I stared at nothing as my anger melted away and the sorrow prevailed. My words became a whisper as I continued, "All I know is that I can't leave. Because if I leave, then maybe he was right, and I will no longer remember him. It will truly be as if he never existed. And if he ceases to exist, I know I will, too."

"Please, Bella," my mother said through tears that were likely caused by my uncharacteristic outburst. "Please, just come with me to Jacksonville. I know that right now it seems like things won't get better, but, baby, they will. And maybe, if you get away from here for a little bit, you'll realize that you deserve so much more than Edward could give you."

There it was again, _his_ name, the one word that pushed me over the edge. My shouting resumed, but it wasn't truly my mother's words that fueled my explosion this time. It was more that _he _had said similar things during our time together, always telling me that I deserved more, that I deserved _better_, and I was so damn tired of hearing it. My anger and frustration was boiling over, my limbs were shaking and I felt the unequivocal need to just let it all out. I crossed to my bed and began removing my carefully packed belongings from the suitcase and throwing them frantically, not caring where they landed. As I did so, I yelled at my mother, but, subconsciously, my words were meant for _him. _"I didn't _want _more than he could give me. All I ever wanted was _him_. All I ever needed was for him to love me. _That _was more than enough for me. I just wasn't enough for him."

When the suitcase had been emptied, I roughly shoved it onto my floor and stared at my ruffled bed. A flash of him smiling at me played across my minds eye and I tore at the blankets and sheets as I began to sob. It was all a lie. Every touch, every word, they were all lies. I threw everything but my mattress on the floor. Then I started punching what was left. I had foolishly believed him, believed _them_. They had never truly cared about me. I should have known. "Why did you lie to me?" I whispered through my punches into the empty space where he used to lay. "Why?"

I felt someone grab my upper body and pull me away from the bed. I started flailing against the arms that held me captive and they momentarily released me. But then Charlie's hands spun me around and pulled me into a hug. I continued beating against his chest, my tears staining his shirt, my thoughts shifting so quickly that I was having trouble holding on to any single idea. But the jumbled mess radiated one very strong and undeniable fact. Edward didn't love me.

I wasn't sure how long I stood there being held in my father's embrace, but eventually I ran out of tears and the numbness started to form on the edges of my mind. Charlie moved us toward my bed and sat us down, holding me on his lap like and rocking me like an infant. Renee hesitantly joined us and we sat in silence for long awhile. Charlie spoke first.

_**Charlie's POV**_

"Bells, I know that you are hurting. And I know that maybe I don't understand exactly what you're feeling but I promise you that I'm going to help you get through this." I paused for a moment trying to find the right words to use with my delicate daughter. "If you don't want to leave, that's fine, we won't make you. But you have to start taking care of yourself. You have to eat. You have to leave your room. And, at some point, you have to go back to school." I searched her face for some sort of agreement, but her expression was blank and I was, once again, lost. I was no good at this emotional stuff. Bella and I used to be two peas in a pod when it came to that. But everything was different now. Everything had changed since she started hanging out with that kid.

Edward. I ground my teeth together to keep myself from scowling as I thought about what he had done to my little girl. I had always been supportive of the Cullen family, defending them against any member of this small town that chose to belittle them, but when Bella first mentioned that she had a date with one of them, I felt an unexplainable urge to forbid her from going.

I could only wish now that I had followed my instincts back then, because her strange behavior started with that first date. She left the house blissfully happy and returned hating everything about this town. Suddenly, she just _had_ to get away from here. Then, just as suddenly, she decided to come back. I still wasn't sure if I fully believed the story of her injury-filled return, but I let it go because she once again seemed completely happy. And now this.

In my entire life I had never seen anyone so broken, especially not over a teenage romance. It was almost as if the Cullen kid had _died_ instead of just moved away, and he was taking my precious Bella with him. I was terrified that night, first, when I found the note that they had gone for a walk from which she had never returned and then when she was found lying on the ground in the rain, rambling incoherent phrases and crying uncontrollably. I had tried to reach the Cullens, tried to find some answers, but they had already gone, and I was thrust into the position of fixing Bella's first broken heart.

Then the dreams came. I had waited until Bella was asleep to go to bed myself, not a difficult task since I was still pretty wound up from my experience of having a missing daughter in a dark forest. About an hour after I had drifted into an uneasy slumber, I heard her screaming. I leapt from my bed faster than I knew I could move and was in her room within seconds. She was sitting up in the dark, panting and repeating the same phrase over and over between her sobs. "He's gone" was all she said and I could only sit with her and hold her as she rocked back and forth and fell apart.

Eventually, she calmed enough to fall back asleep, and I sat on her bed, watching her as she tossed and turned, asking myself if her reaction to Edward's absence was at all normal, and immediately knowing that it was not, that there was so much more to this story. In her fitful sleep, Bella kicked away her comforter, and all I could do was stare at the bruises that I noticed peppering her skin as my mind ran amuck with contemplations of my worst nightmare. I tried not to let my anger grow to homicidal proportions when I saw what my profession had taught me were the distinct markings of fingertips on her thighs and wrists. Part of me wanted to awaken her immediately, to beg her to tell me the truth about what had happened, to demand to know if Edward had physically harmed her. But Bella was in an exceptionally fragile state, and, despite my crazed thoughts, I couldn't stand to upset her further, so I left the room and allowed her to rest.

I fell into a hellish sleep after that, one that was disrupted by the sound of Bella's screams every couple of hours. Each time I went to comfort her, I felt increasingly helpless. This vicious cycle repeated for two days. Two excruciating days where Bella did nothing but sleep and scream and cry. Two days of me trying to convince her to talk to me and to eat something and to take care of herself. Two days of me gazing at her discolored skin, wondering what that bastard had done and just how much he had truly taken from my daughter.

I wasn't sure how much longer I was going to be able to take it, but then Bella just seemed to switch off. She got up from her bed, which I at first viewed as progress. I thought that maybe she was finally ready to talk about what had happened and move on with her life. But she continued to refuse to eat and my attempts to talk to her were met by silence. It was almost as if she had turned into a zombie, a hollow shell. There was no sign of my daughter in the being that rhythmically rocked in my mother's chair. I called Dr. Gerandy, but the only things he could suggest were therapy and medication, and I couldn't bring myself to admit that Bella was that far gone. When she had gone five days without eating, though, I told Renee it was time for her to come here so that we could discuss our options.

My ex-wife's arrival brought both optimism and sadness. I hoped that her presence would snap Bella out of her trance, but Renee's suggestion that our daughter return with her to Florida made me feel an overwhelming sense of loss. I knew that a change of scenery would probably be good for Bella, but I could not deny how much I was going to miss her.

My optimism quickly shriveled away when I realized that Renee's presence seemed to have no affect whatsoever on Bella's state of mind. As we packed her things for their trip to Florida, we talked quietly about keeping in touch with each other, about the steps we would take to heal our daughter. We filled Bella's suitcase with her possessions and as I glanced around the room to make sure we hadn't missed anything, I noticed one of the floorboards sticking up a little higher than the rest, as if it had been removed at some point. I knelt down to check on it, and the board lifted with a small amount of effort. I sucked in my breath as I lifted Bella's scrapbook, a music CD, two plane tickets to Florida and an envelope addressed to Renee from the hiding place beneath the floor. I set them down gently as I tried to figure out why—and when—Bella had hidden these items away. Then it hit me. Bella _hadn't_ hidden them away.

Before I could think about it, I said his name in a low, angry voice. I hadn't said the name out loud since I had carried Bella into our house the night that she had gone missing because I had noticed how she winced whenever someone mentioned Edward or his family. It seemed that, now, the sound of his name had gotten through to her, though, and I didn't know whether to jump for joy or start to cry when I heard her gasp. I quickly went to her, but Renee was closer, trying to soothe her in ways that I was unskilled.

But Bella couldn't be comforted. She snapped and started shouting at us, throwing a temper tantrum that would rival the worst toddler in the history of time. Before I could understand what was happening, clothing was flying around the room and Bella was pulling on her sheets.

I was momentarily stuck in place by the shock of her drastic change. Then her boxing match with her mattress broke through my surprise and I attempted to calm her down. At first, the police officer in me took charge and I simply grabbed her and attempted to hold her still. When that didn't work, my limited abilities as a father broke through and I turned her around and wrapped her in a tight hug, determined not to let her go until she calmed down. Eventually she did.

So here we sat: me, Renee and our damaged daughter. I told her that I would help her get through this, and I meant it with every fiber of my being, but Bella offered me no measure of hope that she believed my words. Renee said nothing; she simply stared at us as tears ran down her face to illustrate the helplessness I knew we both felt.

It had been eleven days since Bella had taken a life-altering walk into the woods. And as I looked at her expressionless face, and her vacant eyes that I knew no longer saw me, I was forced to come to one very difficult conclusion: Edward Cullen had broken my daughter and nothing I could do was going to fix her. I had seen the bruises that Edward had left on Bella's body, but the way she spoke of him moments ago forced me to realize that such superficial damage was _nothing_ compared to the internal destruction he had caused.

Once that realization hit, I made a vow. This would never happen again. The next time, if there ever was a next time, that I came into contact with that son-of-a-bitch Edward Cullen, I was going to eliminate him. First, I planned to break every last piece of him that had ever touched my daughter, starting with his god-damned fingers. And then, when he had suffered a pain so profound that it would make Bella's misery seem insignificant, it would be the defining personal struggle of my life not to kill him. Because it no longer mattered that I was a cop. It didn't matter that I knew better or that there would be consequences. Edward Cullen had hurt my daughter, and all I wanted was to end him.

_**Bella's POV**_

Charlie was talking to me. I knew I needed to listen. I needed to respond. I looked from one parent to the other, and then returned my gaze to an uninteresting speck on the wall as my thoughts were filled with clarity. I had been hurt by the man I loved, by the family that I had desperately wanted to join, but I realized that, in this moment, I was no better than them. I had allowed my own pain and suffering to transmit to _my _family, to my mom and dad, to the only two people in my life that I knew would never abandon me. Despite my overwhelming feelings of sadness, I easily recognized how wrong that was. I needed to move past this. Or, at the very least, I needed to make them think I had moved past this. I needed to stop hurting them simply because I was hurting. For everything that they had given me, they deserved better than that.

I took a breath and did my best to pay attention to the words my father was saying. The first words that moved past the barriers in my brain were those that indicated that I was allowed to stay in Forks. I felt a small measure of relief over that. I hadn't planned on leaving regardless of what my parents decided, but it would certainly be easier to continue living here with Charlie than it would be to scrape together my limited funds and find somewhere to live on my own. I knew my decision to stay in Forks was probably going to hurt my mother, but if I had to choose between her constant attention and flightiness and Charlie's down-to-earth quiet observer behavior, the choice to stay with my father was a no-brainer.

As I listened to his other requests, I decided that they were all things that I could try to do. I could eat, though I still wasn't hungry. I could leave my room. I cringed as Charlie mentioned my return to school, but I supposed I had always known that returning to Forks High was inevitable. I tried not to imagine it, but it was too late. I already saw what was going to happen. _He_ had been with me in every class, sat next to me, walked with me throughout the halls. Everywhere I went was going to remind me of him. Returning to a place with so many connections to him was going to be like exiting one room of hell just to journey into another that was exponentially more damaging than the last. But I would have to get through it somehow, because they needed me to.

Charlie's words had stopped and I knew he was waiting patiently for me to respond. I forced myself to abandon my doomsday thoughts about school, knowing that I would return to them in my next moment of privacy, and lifted my head from its dampened resting spot on Charlie's shoulder. I mustered up all of the courage that I still possessed, looked my father in the eyes and whispered, "Okay. I can do that." Charlie's expression steadily changed, his weary eyes showing obvious signs of relief. I contemplated trying to smile, but the muscles surrounding my mouth seemed frozen in place, so I decided to take baby steps and leave that particular feat for another day.

Renee, in her child-like impatience, quickly pulled me from Charlie's lap and enveloped me in a tight embrace. I was not at all eager to return her affections, but I sucked in my breath, closed my eyes and did my best to loosen up my rigid limbs so that she could exercise her motherly right to hug her daughter. I glanced around my room at the destruction I had caused as I waited for Renee to finish coddling me and something sparkling in the light immediately caught my attention. My eyes focused in on the object that was partially covered by a blue v-neck sweater, and my breath hitched in my throat.

Though the object's view was partially obstructed, I recognized it instantly. I knew the words that were carefully scripted on the disc. I knew the notes that would drift to my ears should I place it in the CD player that sat next to the computer on my desk. Before I had time to put up a blockade, the image flowed into my mind. I saw his expert fingers caressing the piano keys as they brought his music to life. I heard his perfect, velvety voice humming a lullaby I had never before heard, a melody that he said had been inspired by me. What I failed to realize until this moment, though, was what the music had known all along. Like the melody that he had sung so many times, the love between us was sweet and soothing; it was perfect. But beneath that melody was a lower, haunting harmony that, for so long, I had blindly refused to hear.

Now I understood, though. _I _was not the inspiration for my lullaby. Our love was, and from the moment the notes had been drawn, _he _had known that it would end in tragedy. He had known that I would end up alone. He had known that I would suffer. And all along, he had _lied_.

I jumped to my feet as the inescapable truth once again crept up on me. I ran to the bathroom and immediately threw up the emptiness of my stomach. I wasn't sure how long I knelt next to the toilet, my body convulsing and a new wave of tears gushing from my eyes. When the nausea passed, I looked up to find my parents staring at me. I needed them to go away. I needed everything to just go the hell away. My eyes drifted to the bathtub and I thought of an escape. "Please. I—I need a shower," I stated, looking down at the floor. They hesitated a moment before leaving me, but both of them must have decided that I could use some washing up, because they turned and retreated from the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind them.

I continued to sit against the wall for a long time, thankful that my parents had left me alone so that I wouldn't have to pretend. I silently cried as I waited for the numbness to return. I knew that it would; it had to. Because if it didn't, I had no doubt that I was eventually going to have to break a promise I had made. I waited and waited, but the pain didn't leave. I looked around the room, searching for a way out. It would be so easy to just—let go.

But that damned promise. I didn't even know why the hell it mattered so much to me that I keep it. I quickly stood, and crossed the room to lock the door. With my back to hardened wood, I took a deep breath and swallowed. The acidic flavor in my throat nearly returned me to a heaving mess at the toilet, but I managed to calm my stomach as I spit crimson saliva into the sink. I brushed my teeth to remove the bitter taste from my mouth, and as I did so, I glanced at my haggard reflection in the mirror. I lowered my eyes almost immediately; I was disgusting. I was not me. The girl I had been was—lost.

I removed my clothing slowly, trying to prolong my solitude as I made some decisions. I grabbed a towel from the closet and my eyes rested on a rust-colored bottle that had been shoved to the rear of one of the shelves. I reached for it and sighed as the white tablets clattered together in the half-empty container. I stared at the solution that rested in my palm for a long time, willing myself to open the top, to pour the pills into the gaping wounds of my body, to find a lasting peace. But the hole in my chest, the pain I felt—it never disappeared when I thought of my end. I couldn't contemplate the relief it might bring, because I was too overwhelmed by thoughts of guilt over that stupid promise. I shook my head, threw the bottle back into the closet and turned toward the shower. It made no sense, and it angered me beyond description, but I, simply, could not break it.

I quickly adjusted the water so that my skin could barely tolerate its heat, then I stepped into the shower, allowing the flowing liquid to warm the parts of my body that were still able to feel warmth. I closed my eyes and remained still as all of my thoughts slowly washed away with the water. The numbness had arrived, and I was once again able to keep the pain at bay. Every so often, I was remotely aware of someone knocking on the bathroom door, interrupting my serenity, but I didn't bother to answer. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, and I knew that Renee and Charlie were probably worried, but I stayed in the shower until the freezing cold water shocked me into a state of awareness. I exited the shower and, as I dried my exhausted body and made my way back to my room, I did my best to put on my game face.

Thankfully, my bedroom no longer looked as if it had been visited by a tornado. Charlie and Renee had picked up the items that had cluttered the floor and returned everything they could to its proper place. I tried not to focus on anything but the clothing I was putting on, afraid that I would see something else to spark a memory I couldn't handle. When I was dressed in my favorite sweatpants and an old t-shirt, I left my room, proud that I was doing something that Charlie had asked, and walked down the stairs toward the voices that were coming from the kitchen.

Both of my parents looked at me as I entered, and I acknowledged them with a slight nod. I walked to the cabinet, retrieved a bowl and poured a small amount of granola into it, then added an even smaller amount of milk. I grabbed a spoon and sat down at the table, aware of the two sets of eyes that followed my every movement. I ate the granola quickly, not really tasting anything and, once my dishes had been cleaned, I moved to retreat to my room. I made it to the bottom of the steps before Charlie spoke.

"Bella?" he called. "I know you're probably worn out, but I just wanted to see if you think you'll be up to returning to school on Monday. I know there are a lot of people there that miss you, and would love to hear that you're coming back. What do you say?" He seemed to be trying overly hard to sound positive and reassuring, as if he was hoping some of his attitude would magically rub off on me.

My first instinct was to think up a justified reason to put off my reinsertion into the high school world, but the only excuses I could come up with that would allow me to skip school for the rest of my life involved me telling the truth, which they would never believe, and I didn't relish the thought of spending the remainder of my days drugged up and locked in a padded white cell. There was no getting out of it; I would have to return to "normal" life sooner or later, so I might as well get it over with. I realized, though, that I didn't even know what day it was. I prayed that Monday wasn't tomorrow as I asked, "Umm—what day is today?"

"It's Saturday," Renee replied. _Wonderful_ I thought. _Just one more day until I get thrown to the gauntlet between loneliness and high school gossip_.

Charlie left the kitchen and stood before me, arms crossed in a stance of authority, as if he were testing me, as if he were trying to determine whether or not I was truly alright. "Bells?" he asked, still waiting for me to make my decision.

I mustered up a tightlipped smile before grudgingly replying. "Sure, Dad. Monday's great."

**Leave love...or hate. Just, please and thank you, try to leave the hate in a nice kind of way :)**


	4. MAD WORLD

**Okay, so Bella is really struggling to let Edward go, but Charlie has put his foot down and demanded that she snap herself out of her funk and go back to school. She agreed in order to stay in Forks, but now she has to return to the land of Forks High. Here's how that goes down.**

**4 ~ Mad World**

"**Went to school and I was very nervous**

**No one knew me, no one knew me**

**Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson**

**Look right through me, look right through me**

**And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad**

**The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had**

**I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take**

**When people run in circles**

**It's a very, very mad world…"**

_**Mad World **_**by Michael Andrews & Gary Jules**

**Sunday, September 25 to Monday, September 26**

_**Bella's POV**_

Sunday passed more quickly than I would have liked for the simple reason that I was dreading Monday. If it had not been for the fact that Monday meant returning to school and returning to school meant remembering things I preferred not to think of, I would have been itching for the time with both of my parents to come to an end.

Except for the small amount of time I slept in the rocking chair, I was under constant parental supervision, which meant that I was always putting my acting skills to the test. Charlie spent the entire day watching me like a hawk, as if at any moment he expected me to break down or flip out, but I was thankful that he didn't try to coerce me into conversation, as Renee seemed hell-bent on doing. After breakfast, I spent hours at the kitchen table, sipping a mug of hot chocolate, listening to her jabber on about her perfect house in Jacksonville and Phil's baseball team and the new modern dance class she had taken up. I did my best to seem interested, nodding my head at appropriate times and weakly smiling as often as my lips would permit, but after awhile, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to find something to keep me busy so that the hours until Renee's flight would pass more quickly.

I settled on getting some laundry done, a task Renee had never welcomed, hoping that she would take my subtle hint and find someone else to annoy with her chipperness. Unfortunately, though, Renee seemed thoroughly content to follow, watch and chat with me as I laundered my light and dark wash. I had everything folded and put away entirely too quickly, and as I searched the rest of my room for something else to do, my eyes rested on my bed. I drew in a deep breath, set my jaw in determination and marched over to it, ripping off my comforter and sheets and tossing them into an empty basket.

I knew that the smell of him lingered in the fabric, so I did my best not to inhale as I carted everything off to the laundry room, my mother's constant chatter following close behind. I poured a generous amount of bleach into the water after I added the detergent, but when the washer finished its final spin and I lifted the lid, I could still detect the faint smell of honey emanating from within. I left out a slight gasp before slamming the cover back down and setting the dials to wash everything again. The machine began thumping through its washing routine, but instead of feeling relief over the idea that I might actually be able to sleep in my freshly-cleaned bed tonight, I felt a single tear trickle down my cheek at the thought that I was washing him away forever. Remembering that I was still in the company of my mother, I quickly sniffed and wiped the tear away, but I wasn't fast enough. She had grown eerily silent, and I knew she had seen my unintentional display.

Renee's hand gently grasped my shoulder and spun me around to face her. I quickly dropped my gaze to prevent her from reading the truth in my eyes, praying that she would just let it go. She released her hold on me to softly close the laundry room door, blocking Charlie from hearing the conversation that I now knew she would not allow me to escape. "Bella," she whispered, and then let out a loud sigh. "Baby, I know this is probably the last thing you want to talk about with me, but I have to ask you anyway. Did Ed—did he…baby, did he force you to—"

"No," I said icily, turning away from her and staring out the window as I thought about the many times he had actually prevented us from being intimate. "He was always the perfect gentleman," I whispered. It was _me_ that always wanted more, _me_ that pushed him to test his limits, _me_ that begged him to give in. If I was smart, maybe I would have seen his resistance for what it truly was: his lack of desire. But I was naïve; time and time again, I had believed his excuses. I had believed that he wanted me. I had believed that making love to him had brought us closer together until I found that it had, instead, torn us completely apart.

I shook my head to clear it from the thoughts of my transgressions, and I could instantly feel her eyes watching me. I knew that she wanted to say more, that she wanted to have a heart-to-heart with me about relationships and feelings and making mistakes, but, thankfully, she never resumed the conversation. Instead, she allowed me to bask in her silence until the washing machine dinged to indicate that it was done.

I moved my bedclothes into the dryer, and, sensing that her quietude was quickly drawing to a close, passed by Renee, saying, "I should probably try to get caught up on some school work. Can you let me know when the dryer's done?" I looked at her just long enough to see her nod before hastily making my way to my room. I pulled my physics and calculus books from my backpack and sat at my desk, but instead of reading from them, I rested my head in my arms and quietly cried myself to sleep.

I awoke to the sound of hushed movements in my room and twisted around to see Renee smoothing the last of the wrinkles from the blankets she had just returned to my bed. She gave me a soft smile and said, "Sorry I woke you." She sat on my bed and beckoned me to join her with a few pats of her hand. I stood from my desk, stretched out my kinked up muscles and cautiously sat on the very edge of the mattress. She pulled me into a sideways hug and said, "Bella, it _will_ get easier. You _will _get past this. And your dad and I will always be here to help you." I couldn't help the tears that came to my eyes, and I didn't try to stop them from falling this time. I just allowed myself to feel safe and comforted as my mother held me in her arms and let me cry my eyes to dryness.

There was a knock at the door some time later and Charlie poked his head inside my room to say, "Renee, it's time to go or you're going to miss your flight." I glanced out the window, noticing for the first time that the sun had started to go down, and was silently grateful that they had allowed me to sleep most of the afternoon away at my desk.

Renee stood, pulling me with her and tightly hugged me goodbye. "Come and visit me soon, okay?" she said, and I nodded my assent for the sole purpose of getting her to leave. I truly had no intentions of visiting Florida, but her simple request had caused me to remember a blocked memory from my birthday. I bit my lower lip as I thought of the plane tickets that Carlisle and Esme had gotten me for my birthday, and I bit back a sob as I remembered the person with whom I had been planning to make the trip.

Charlie was eying me carefully, no doubt catching all of the signs that pointed toward my imminent breakdown, so I clung to my mother tightly and whispered "I'm going to miss you, Mom." When Charlie cleared his throat, a reminder of the time, Renee released me and kissed my cheek. She noticed my moist eyes, and hers also filled with tears. As I had hoped, she attributed my crying to the fact that she was leaving, but I wasn't so sure that Charlie didn't see right through my facade. If he did, he at least didn't mention it and I watched out my window as the cruiser slowly drove out of sight.

At long last, I had been left alone and I was glad for the peace of solitude. My parents' absence meant that I didn't have to spend all of my limited energy pretending that everything about my life was just fine. It meant that I could sit in the rocking chair and, finally, do nothing more than exist. I stared through the glass as the last remnants of daylight faded into night and I allowed myself to be swallowed by the blessed numbness.

Hours later, I saw the blurred headlights of Charlie's car as he pulled into the driveway and I prepared myself for my father's company. A few minutes after I heard the front door open and close, a knock sounded on my door. "Come in," I said emotionlessly. Charlie entered and he seemed slightly anxious when he saw that I was once again swaying back and forth in the rocking chair.

"Hey. I just wanted to let you know I'm home. I thought maybe we could order a pizza or something for dinner." I looked at the clock when he mentioned food and decided that preparing dinner myself would be a good way to pass the time until it reached a reasonable hour for me to go to bed. And maybe, if I was lucky, it would earn me some sanity points with Charlie.

"How about I make something," I suggested, and Charlie smiled for the first time since…before. I got up from the chair and descended to the kitchen as my stomach grumbled and I thought about what I should make. I perused the pantry and the refrigerator and wrinkled my nose when I saw what little I had to work with. I guessed Charlie hadn't done the grocery shopping last week, but I couldn't really be frustrated with him because that task had been my welcomed responsibility since I had moved to Forks. Noticing that we at least had eggs, bread and potatoes, I decided to make breakfast for dinner. I pulled out all of the necessary ingredients for french toast and home fries, and as I heated up the stove and shredded the potatoes into a butter-coated pan, I realized that, for the first time in a long time, I felt the painful pangs of hunger.

In my stomach's opinion, I couldn't seem to get the food prepared fast enough. I popped a few pieces of golden-fried potato in my mouth as I stirred them around, cursing under my breath when the last piece burned my tongue. After about twenty minutes, the food was finally finished and I quickly moved the two pans to the center of the kitchen table. Before Charlie had even sat down, I was eagerly scooping a generous portion of potatoes and two pieces of french toast onto my plate. Charlie's jaw dropped as I poured maple syrup over my toast, but he recovered from his shock quickly and we ate in silence.

My stomach was satisfied when I emptied my plate, and I could tell that Charlie was pleased that I seemed to be adhering to all of his requests. I took my time washing the dishes, and when the kitchen was once again spotless, I sat at the table and made up a grocery list so that I could stop at the store on my way home tomorrow. It was around eight o'clock when it was completed, and I decided that it was a perfectly acceptable time to turn in for the night. I said goodnight to Charlie, who smiled and nodded before returning his attention to his sports channel, and then I climbed the stairs to my room.

As I sat down on my bed, I realized that I was suddenly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and not wake up for a long while. _Maybe forever_ I instantly thought, but I quickly dismissed the idea. I made a promise and I intended to keep it as long as I was capable of doing so. He was right, after all, Charlie needed me, and just because other people broke _their_ promises didn't mean that I could, too. Stupid, cruel, heartless, promise-breaking assholes!

The unexpected wave of bitterness and anger I felt as I crawled under the Clorox-scented covers was therapeutic. It was certainly better than the constant misery that assailed me when the numbness in my head decided I needed a heavy dose of reality. And it was a surprisingly comforting emotion to feel as I was about to attempt to rest in a bed that had previously brought me nothing but painful nightmares. I flinched as I remembered the recurring dream I had experienced the last time I slept in this bed and I seriously contemplated returning to the solace of the rocking chair. I quickly dismissed the idea, though, because I knew that Charlie would be checking in on me I didn't want to destroy all of the progress I had made tonight at dinner by showing him that I was too unstable to sleep in my own bed. I reached over to set my alarm clock even though I strongly doubted I would need it, closed my eyes and took slow, steady breaths. The bleach had worked its magic and I quickly drifted off to sleep with no scented memories to penetrate the numbness that was returning to my mind.

I awoke screaming sometime in the early morning hours and the darkness of my room only served to terrify me that my nightmare was going to follow me into reality. I suppose I could have been thankful that it wasn't the same dream I had experienced the last time I slept in this bed, but I instead felt confused, alone and absolutely petrified. I was concentrating on calming my elevated breathing and heart rates when Charlie entered my room to see why I had screamed.

He switched on my light and the lack of darkness helped to calm my nerves. "Are you alright?" he asked as he sat next to me on my bed, his hands fidgeting as if he didn't know exactly what to do with them to comfort me. He finally took the safe no-touching route and placed them in his lap.

I thought about his question and how I should answer it. Am I alright? That really depended on what one considered "alright" to mean. If it meant was my physical self intact, was I breathing and conscious and responsive then, yes, I supposed I was alright. But if it meant was my well-being alright, was I happy, did my life have meaning, did I even really want to have a life, then the answer was a definite no. I decided it would be best to give Charlie the first answer.

"It was just a nightmare Cha—Dad. I'm okay." He kept staring at me, trying to figure out if I was being honest. I hated it. It wasn't like he would really want to know the truth anyway. _I_ didn't even want to know the truth. Because they, whoever the hell _they_ were, were right. The truth hurts. The truth can destroy your dreams. The truth can destroy your life.

Before my thoughts became any darker and my open book of a face gave me away, I needed Charlie to leave. I decided to remind him that I was being good. "Look, I'm fine, really. And I need to get back to sleep now, unless you want me dozing off on my first day back to school." Not that I really planned on being excessively alert, but he didn't need to know that.

"Okay Bells," he replied reluctantly. He got up from my bed but before he left my room, he felt it important to add, "But if you need anything, I'm right here." He returned to his room and I stared at the door he had closed behind him.

To the emptiness of my room I whispered, "Sorry Charlie. What I need you can't give me." I lied back down and closed my eyes, but instead of falling back asleep, I spent the hours until my alarm clock went off thinking about my nightmare over and over again, trying to recall every detail so that it would make more sense.

In the dream, I was in an old city, somewhere I didn't recognize. All of the buildings were made of sandstone, and they seemed to stretch so high above me that they made me feel insignificant and helpless. I was running down the street in a long, dark, hooded gown. I couldn't tell if I was running _from _something or running _to_ something, but I somehow knew that it was extremely urgent that I get to wherever it was that I was going as quickly as possible.

When I exited the walls that surrounded the strange city, I was back in Forks, running from the forest toward my house. I rushed through the splintered remnants of the front door and I heard someone laughing. It was a female voice, and I couldn't deny that it was beautiful, but it was also exceedingly evil. And it was coming from the direction of Charlie's room. I raced up the steps as fast as my surprisingly stable legs would carry me and I reached the doorway of Charlie's bedroom just in time to see him fall to the ground. No one else was in the room. Charlie's neck was turned in an awkward direction, and his face had frozen in terror. His arms held their final position, stretched outward in his attempt to thwart the advances of his absent attacker. He was gone, dead, murdered, and I knew it was my fault. I felt immediate sadness and guilt, but I pushed the emotions aside because, selfish as it may sound, it was not my father I had come to protect.

I sprinted from his room, but the hallway seemed to stretch on forever, and no matter how far or how fast I ran, my bedroom door seemed out of reach. Finally, though, when I once again heard the sound of laughter, my hand reached out and grasped the doorknob. My stomach turned as the door opened in slow motion and a frighteningly familiar odor permeated my nostrils. The smokiness made my eyes burn, and fear seized my heart and halted my breaths when I saw her standing before me.

Her head was tilted back in a bout of wicked laughter. As I approached her, the laughing stopped, but a malevolent smile still remained on her lips. I barely saw it, though, because my eyes were fixed beyond her, on the wooden rails that were spattered with blood. I could not see inside, but the smoke rising from the center of the enclosure turned my fear to despair. I frantically shook my head and yelled, "No, no, please, god, no!" and fell to my knees as she approached me, her red hair blowing wildly in the breeze from the open window. Tears overflowed from my eyes that never left the purple-tinged fire as it raged on and began to consume everything in its path. I felt as though my body was imploding from anguish, and when she laughed again, I was filled with pure hatred. I hopped to my feet, grabbing her by the neck and shoving her against the only wall that had not been destroyed by flames.

"Go ahead, Isabella," she taunted me. "Kill me. It won't change the fact that, once again, you're too late. Even if you survive, you'll always be alone." Her laughter trilled through my ears as her final words echoed into my waking mind, drowning out the sound of my own screams. Long after the dream had ended, long after I had sat back and tried to analyze every element of what I had seen, her voice haunted me.

Much of the dream was still a mystery. True, I had recognized Victoria and I understood her hatred for me, but I did not know the city I had left before running home to Forks and I did not know why the smoke I had seemed to recognize in my dream would create such a deep feeling of loss and hopelessness. I had never seen a violet fire before, and the sight of it seemed to instantly devastate me more than seeing my father lying dead on the floor. It made no sense.

I realized that I could handle the confusion of the dream, but I could not handle the reality that hit me at the memory of Victoria. I had no idea where she was right now, or what her plans were, but I _did_ know what she was capable of and that I was responsible for the death of her mate. If she chose to make me pay for that, I also knew that I was no longer protected against whatever vile thing she chose to do to me, because I no longer had the luxury of a psychic best friend and a coven of vampires willing to fight for me. My heart started racing as I realized that they had left me here to die. The crazy thing was—I could handle that. Part of me even _welcomed_ that. What I could _not _handle was the idea of Charlie paying the consequences for my mistakes. He didn't ask to be involved in the world of not-so-make-believe. He didn't ask to raise a daughter that had her own gravitational pull toward everything dangerous and absurd. He didn't deserve to die because I had chosen to love a vampire. What had I done? And, more importantly, what was I going to _do_?

When my alarm sounded, I smacked it off and quickly got out of bed. I went through the familiar motions of getting ready for school as I wondered for the umpteenth time if things would have been better had James just killed me last year. The Cullens could have gone on with their lives and Charlie would be safe and I would be—gone. Everything would just be…better. But what good was dwelling in the past? I couldn't change what had happened on that day, and if I wanted to protect my dad, I needed to start thinking about what I was going to do in the future.

I concentrated on keeping my thoughts neutral as I drove to school. I pulled into an empty parking space and watched as the familiar students formed their cliques and not-so-subtly pointed in the direction of my truck. _I guess I'm front-page news again _I thought as I leaned my head against the cool steering wheel. _Awesome_. I prayed to whatever gods would listen that the numbness would return to me when I realized that I could no longer put off entering my first classroom.

I walked into English and took my seat in the back of the classroom, thankful that Mr. Berty was a kind soul and did not make a big fuss about my return. I focused my eyes straight ahead and tried to give my full attention to the lecture material rather than the stares and whispers of my classmates.

"Alright, class, let's clear our mind of weekend adventures and dive back into some mythology_,_ shall we? Now, you should all be familiar with the Trojan War, its causes, the influence of the gods on the outcome of the war, the battle between Hector and Achilles and the eventual fall of Troy, all of which will be topics for your exam at the end of this week." A collective groan could be heard throughout the classroom before Mr. Berty continued, "On Friday, we began our study of what happened _after_ the war by looking at the adventures of Aeneas, the half-human son of the goddess Aphrodite, or Venus, as she is known in _Dido and Aeneas_. I would like to pick up with the movie where we left off, as Aeneas is about to meet Dido, the Queen of Carthage. Please remember to pay attention, as I will be stopping the film momentarily to ask questions and highlight the key points."

Mr. Berty started the DVD player, and I realized that he was forcing us to watch an opera; luckily he had the subtitles on so that I was actually able to tell what the characters were singing. I found myself engrossed in the story after awhile, and tears slowly fell from my eyes as Dido sang her final words. "_Death is now a welcome guest. When I am laid in earth, may my wrongs create no trouble in thy breast. Remember me, but ah! Forget my fate._"

When the movie ended and the lights were switched back on, I quickly brushed the tears from my eyes, and returned my attention to Mr. Berty. "This tale follows a similar pattern of many of the Greek adventures. We have our hero, Aeneas, who is destined for glory as the founder of the Roman race, but as the gods interfere, always trying to augment their own agendas, the hero finds himself on a long and adventurous journey. In this case, Aeneas finds himself in Carthage, where Queen Dido falls in love with him, a love that turns tragic when Aeneas eventually leaves her behind so that he may complete his destiny.

In this story of love, we are provided another example of a common theme in Greek mythology: there is rarely a happily ever after for the lovers. In this case, Dido has given herself completely to Aeneas, betraying her duties as queen and leaving her city to weaken. When he leaves her, she commits suicide with his dagger. Other stories have the women betraying their families rather than their subjects, but the men to whom they have given their love, their allegiance, always become disloyal.

So the question I would like you to toss about in your young minds is this: do you believe that blood runs thicker than water or are there times when one should betray his or her family for reasons such as love? Be prepared to discuss this topic at the start of tomorrow's lecture. Have a great day, and don't forget to study for your exam!"

The bell was about to ring, and people were scrambling to pack up their belongings, but I was frozen in place, staring at the empty seat next to me that I had sworn I would _not_ look at, and contemplating Mr. Berty's words and how they, inexplicably, related to my life. I was _that _girl, the one who betrayed her family. I had placed both Charlie and Renee in danger countless times because of some foolish, unrequited love. And unless I made some good decisions soon, I might never be able to undo that betrayal. Charlie would wind up like he was in my dream. I started breathing heavily as my stomach churned in fear. Victoria's words—she was right. I would wind up all alone.

I rose from my chair and raced to the bathroom in time to deposit the strawberry pop tart I had eaten for breakfast into the nearest toilet. When I had finished heaving, I sat inside the bathroom stall as I tried to block out the images from my dream.

"Bella?" a quiet voice said outside the door. It was Angela. "I saw you run in here after English class, so I thought I'd pack up your books and bring them to you." She paused, waiting for a reply, but I didn't give one. "Okay, well, I hope you start feeling better, and if you want to talk or you need some help getting to the nurse or something, I'll be right in the next classroom."

I waited until after I heard her leave the bathroom to emerge from my stall. I rinsed out my mouth and splashed some cool water on my face before grabbing my books and rushing to get to my next class. I spent the entire walk to the physics lab forcing the troubling thoughts from my head. I somehow managed to make it through the lecture on vectors before it was time to make my way to the cafeteria.

I wasn't hungry when I entered the lunch room, so I didn't bother getting in line to purchase food. I sat down far away from my usual table, hoping that everyone would take the hint to leave me alone. I laid my head on my arms, closed my eyes and tried desperately to phase everything out. It almost worked.

I periodically checked the clock on the wall in front of me to make sure I didn't stay in the cafeteria too long, and when the lunch period was almost over, I heard footsteps behind me and familiar voices chattering away. Most of their words did not register, but I heard every word that left Lauren's mouth.

"Poor, pitiful Bella. Looks like Cullen finally realized she wasn't worth his time, but now she's too high and mighty to associate with us. What a loser." I looked in her direction when I heard her voice and my eyes filled with tears as her words and laughter poured salt in the deep wounds of my soul. She was right about the first part. I wasn't good enough for them and deep down, I had always known it. And now, what had always been painfully obvious to everyone else was being rubbed in my foolish face. I watched Lauren and Jessica exit the cafeteria and then I grabbed my bag and ran through the double doors toward my truck. To hell with school. To hell with everything.

I put the key in the ignition and my truck roared to life. As I was leaving the parking lot, I thought I saw Angela running in my direction, but I didn't stop to listen to her apologize for the cruel words her "friends" had spoken. I drove as fast as my old vehicle would go until I arrived in front of my empty house. After I parked, I stayed in my truck for awhile and let the sobs take over me. I leaned my head against the steering wheel and let my body shake as the tears poured from my eyes. I squeezed my keys as hard as I could, trying to use physical pain as an outlet for my emotional torment. It felt surprisingly good, but a sharp edge on one of the older keys had broken through my skin and the familiar rusty scent of my blood reached my nose quickly. I started to feel faint and I knew I needed to get into my house and up to my room before Charlie got home and found me passed out in my truck.

I walked slowly to the front door and unlocked it with the hidden key. I didn't bother to return the key to its proper place before I entered the house and gently pushed the door closed because I just didn't see the point. I clambered up the steps and unconsciously reached to open my bedroom door with the hand that had been bloodied by my keys. As soon as I saw the blood, the nausea that I thought had passed returned and I ran to the bathroom. I tripped over the doorjamb as I entered and slammed my knee into the bathtub. Before I could make it to the toilet, I threw up. There wasn't much in my stomach to expel, but what had been there covered my shirt and parts of the shower curtain and floor.

_Stupid, clumsy, foolish Bella_, I thought. _No wonder they got tired of you_. I carefully got to my feet and removed my stained shirt as I cried angry tears and silently berated myself for all the things I couldn't seem to do right. I leaned down to the sink and splashed cool water on my face, then leaned against the counter for a few minutes until the queasiness ended. I looked up at my reflection, knowing all too well that I wouldn't be happy with the girl in the mirror.

I gasped as I saw myself. But it was not because of the dark bruise-like shadows that were beneath my eyes or the way my skin looked sickly pale and sunken against the bones of my face. I swallowed hard and stared at my reflection as I lifted my hand and pressed it against my stomach which, despite the sustenance that I had not received during the past week, was undeniably swollen.

**A big super HUGE hank you to everyone who has left reviews! They are definite writing motivators and are extremely appreciated! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and look forward to the next :)**


	5. MODERN MYTH

**In the last chapter, Bella dreamt of some confusing tidbits involving Victoria's potential wrath, and is now worried that she has placed herself and her human family in danger by associating with the Cullens. She returns to school, but leaves quickly when she is assaulted by difficult memories and cruel words. She feels guilt and sadness and, at the end of the chapter, a profound confusion when she looks at her reflection in the mirror and finds that she is wasting away everywhere except her stomach. The following is her path of discovery and dissention surround that perplexing bulge in her stomach. If you haven't thought that this story had a dark element to it before, this chapter may change your mind, okay? So, in the singing words of Scar the lion, "Be prepared!" Enjoy, darlings :) **

**5 ~ Modern Myth**

"**Did we create a modern myth  
Did we imagine half of it  
What happened then, a thought for now**

Save yourself  
Save yourself  
The secret is out  
The secret is out

To buy the truth  
And sell a lie  
The last mistake before you die  
So don't forget to breathe tonight  
Tonight's the last so say good-bye

The secret is out…

Good-bye"

_**Modern Myth **_**by 30 Seconds to Mars**

**Monday, September 26 (continued)**

_**Bella's POV**_

I couldn't stop staring at the conspicuous arch. _It's just a trick of the light _I thought quickly to reassure myself as I started turning in every direction, examining my reflection from all angles. I quickly abandoned that optimistic theory, though, because no matter which way I positioned my body and no matter how hard I tried to suck in my stomach, the bump was still there. I found myself trailing my fingers slowly over my abdomen in caresses of confusion and wonder. My hand came to rest atop my belly button as I did my best to wrap my head around the only condition I knew of that could cause a body to swell in this manner.

I barely thought of the word before my mind became a disastrous jumble of fears and questions and—in the farthest recesses of my brain—_hopes _that I didn't quite understand. I began pacing across the clean portion of the bathroom, nearly oblivious to the pain of my now-bruised knee because the stress-induced adrenaline that was pumping through my veins had me too wired to really feel. I nervously ran my hand through my tangled hair as I cast sideways glances at the mirror.

Each time I looked, I expected my reflection to change back into the same old boring Bella that I had been seeing for the past eighteen years, and, every time, I was wrong. I grew tired of sidestepping the mess I had made on the floor, especially when I almost slid straight into the bathtub again, so I settled for leaning against the counter, facing _away _from the mirror, and tapping my toes against the tile to the beat of my racing heart.

What I was thinking was impossible. It had to be. I had only ever been with _him_, one time, and he wasn't even human. His body was frozen, unchanging, completely incapable of contributing to the creation of a new life. Wasn't it? I mean, if it were possible for vampires to bear children, surely _someone_ would have mentioned it to me, right? True, the topic had never really come up; considering we were still perfecting the art of controlling our kisses, I didn't think it necessary to push him for information about being more intimate. And it hadn't even crossed my mind to ask about having children. Still, he would have told me that day, when we were together, if it were possible. He would have. I think. Right?

Dammit! I wanted to pull my own hair out from frustration because I couldn't say what he would or would not have told me because I didn't even know him anymore. The man I loved, the man I _thought _I knew, would not have left me standing in the rain in the middle of the woods just hours after he made love to me. He would still be here, helping me deal with this, whatever _this _was. All I could be sure of now was that the man I thought I knew had never really existed; he had been replaced by a world-class liar. And that knowledge was very un-comforting.

Perhaps I shouldn't have rolled on past "go" and given my body to him without collecting my $200 worth of information about the dangers and potential consequences of doing so. But the future, the consequences hadn't mattered that afternoon. I was too caught up in the sensations and emotions coursing through me when I was with him that, for once, I stopped thinking and just _felt_. And now—I let out a long breath—now I was just getting carried away. I was allowing myself to get angry at him because it was easier than forcing myself to deal with the pain of remembering him and the confusion over whatever was happening to me. And I needed to just stop it. I needed to force myself to push aside everything screwed up and unpleasant about my life right now so I could figure this out before things inevitably got worse.

I limped to my bedroom and stood in front of my desk, staring at the desert landscapes calendar that hung on the wall. Okay, so, even if what I had been thinking _was_ possible—_which it wasn't_ I internally chanted—it had only been about two weeks since we had been together and, while I was certainly no doctor, I knew enough about life cycles to know it took more than thirteen days for a woman to notice the changes in her body that resulted from growing a child within it. Or, changes like _this _at least. _That's one tick against the baby theory_ I thought, holding up my index finger triumphantly.

When I started counting again, though, my finger started wilting and my breathing picked up. I checked and rechecked the total, and when I got the same unpleasant information each time, I checked again because math had never been a strong subject for me and it was highly likely that I had just added wrong and this was all just some big misunderstanding because there was no way that I was nine days late.

I got the same answer, though. Nine days. I had never been one day late, let alone nine. Still, there were other perfectly reasonable explanations for the fact that my period was a no-show. I had been dealing with a mountain of stress and emotional upheaval lately, and that was most likely the cause. Yes, of course that was the cause. I nodded my head once to punctuate that point, but I couldn't find calm, because stress didn't exactly account for the bulge in my stomach.

I growled and started pacing again, my thoughts running rampant. This was absolutely ridiculous! Maybe I was imagining the roundness of my midsection. It certainly wouldn't be the first time my eyes had played tricks on me, had deceived me into thinking something was there that, in fact, was just a figment my imagination. I thought he loved me. Delusion. I thought he would always be here for me. Delusion. And now, as if I hadn't already been hurt enough, I would get to think about the child we could have had, in a perfect world.

A single image of a tiny baby with bronze curls flashed through my mind; I clenched my eyes shut and focused on pushing all of these ludicrous thoughts from my head. This world was far from perfect and I flat out _refused _to allow myself to sink further into mental mayhem by imagining what it would be like to mother his child. I just wouldn't. I crossed my arms and huffed; there was some other reason for all this, and that was all there was to it.

After a few more minutes of pacing and contemplation, one last idea flitted across my mind: maybe my belly was swollen because I had developed some sort of strange disease. I immediately sat at my desk and powered up my dinosaur of a laptop, tapping my fingers on the mouse as I impatiently waited to access the internet. I typed "causes of swollen abdomen" into Google and clicked on the first link that came up.

The information on the webpage might as well have been written in Swahili, because, despite my many trips to the hospital, I was not exactly versed in medical vocabulary. As I scrolled down and started clicking on random words, though, I discovered some interesting information about the possible causes of my swollen stomach—some of the diseases, if left untreated, would be fatal. I thought about the possibility of my death and, for the second time today, questioned my sanity when I felt not even a tinge of sadness or regret. I knew it was unhealthy, the way the word _fatal_ had actually soothed my spirits, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

I smiled, blissfully accepting the fact that sickness was the only logical explanation for my predicament as I shut down the computer. I momentarily wondered whether dying of natural causes counted as breaking my word. I had every emotionless utterance he had spoken to me that day memorized, so I quickly ran through the conditions of the promise that I had repeatedly wanted to disregard since he had left me. Contracting some sort of illness had nothing to do with being reckless or stupid, and the realization that I could be free from the chains of my pledge almost made me giddy. Soon I could end my pathetic excuse for a life and the world would continue on without me.

As I stood, my eyes once again came face to face with my calendar, and, just when I thought I had silenced all of my troublesome thoughts, a nagging little voice that I sometimes referred to as my conscience piped up in the back of my brain. Actually, the voice was practically screaming at me to abandon my fears and, at the very least, own up to the _prospect_ of a child. In order to silence that annoying little squeak once and for all, I hastily made a plan.

Before I could go to the hospital to get my diagnosis, I had to know, _for sure, _that the impossible was, indeed, impossible, because, like it or not, I had a duty to protect the Cullens from exposure. In order to do that, I needed to be cautious and informed. So, first, I would clean up the mess I had made in the bathroom and then I would hop in my truck and drive to the pharmacy to buy a test. And I would do so in a calm and completely controlled fashion. Having decided on a course of action, I got to work.

I returned to the bathroom, my breath held to block out the sickening stench, wiped the floor and shower curtain with some paper towels and deposited my soiled clothing in the laundry hamper. Once all evidence of my vomiting had been removed, I hobbled downstairs, snatched a large hooded sweatshirt off of the hook by the door and pulled it over my head, grabbed my keys and headed to my truck.

I was half-way to the drug store along Main Street, my mind teetering between rational thoughts and absolute hysteria, when I realized that there was no way I could just go in, get a test and get out. This was Forks, after all—stereotypical small town, USA. The place where everyone knew everything about everyone. If I so much as sneezed in town, the entire population would know within the hour, which didn't really mesh well with the whole concept of keeping my current situation under wraps. Making my purchase at the local Walgreens was obviously out of the question, so I continued driving toward Port Angeles, a determined, albeit slightly unhinged, girl on a mission.

I made it through the hour-long drive by focusing on the road ahead and nothing else. A few times my mind had tried to bombard me with thoughts of that coppery-haired child, so, in an effort to protect my fragile brain from splintering apart, I stopped allowing my thoughts to drift at all. I watched my windshield wipers in forced fascination as they smoothed away the raindrops and brought the winding yellow and white lines that were guiding me on my journey into view.

Once I entered the main shopping district of Port Angeles, I pulled into the first place that said "pharmacy". I parked my truck and walked as quickly as I could through the pouring rain to the main entrance of the store. I frantically searched the numerous overhead signs for directions to the area of the store that I needed, and then walked as hurriedly as my sore knee would allow to the shelves that held the product that I had never in a million years thought I would need to purchase. I took a quick peek around me, feeling like a thief checking for surveillance before going in for the steal. After I was certain that the coast was clear, I reached out to the product that claimed to "show accurate results earlier than any other brand." Just to be on the safe side, I grabbed two other tests that I vaguely remembered seeing commercials for. The way I saw it, one test may be inaccurate, but if I got the same reading from all the tests, I could feel secure that the results were reliable, and my fears—manifested as that nagging voice—could safely dissipate. Even though I was fairly confident of the outcome, I knew I would drive myself loony if I wasn't one hundred percent assured.

I turned away from the shelves and, once again, scanned for signs of anyone I recognized from Forks. I quickly determined that no one was familiar and headed toward the closest cash register. As an afterthought, I grabbed two large bottles of water out of the aisle's cooler and set my items on the moving belt. I did not look up at the middle-aged woman that was standing behind the register because the last thing I needed was to see her disapproving glances as she scanned the boxes. I had been through enough in the past weeks without some know-it-all stranger judging me. Refusing to meet her gaze, I handed her forty dollars when she voiced my total, accepted my change and grabbed my bag.

As I was heading toward the exit, I noticed a sign for the restrooms and decided there was no time like the present to put my fears to rest. Plus, if I did the tests here, I wouldn't have to worry about Charlie somehow finding out about this. I quickly twisted the cap off of the water bottle and chugged as much water as I could without upsetting my empty stomach. I threw the first bottle in the trash can inside the vacant bathroom and started ripping open the three boxes in between taking sips from the second bottle. I removed the funny-looking sticks from their wrappers, skimmed over the directions for each one, decided it was a pretty straight-forward process of wetting and waiting, and discarded all of the packaging materials.

Armed with the three plastic test sticks and a newly full bladder, I entered the empty handicapped stall and soaked each absorbent end with urine before placing the sticks on the back of the toilet to "develop" for three painstakingly long minutes. I didn't have a watch, so I paced back and forth in the small stall as I counted to 180 and looked at absolutely everything—the ceiling, the floor, the graffiti-filled walls—except the display areas on the sticks. I didn't know why I was so afraid to look at them; they were all going to come out negative anyway so this nervous energy I was feeling was completely pointless.

I finally reached "180 sugar plum fairy" and took a deep, cleansing breath before grabbing the first stick. A second later, my heart was racing, my stomach felt like it had risen up into my throat and my entire being was on pins and needles because my gaze had drifted across the little white screen that held a plus sign. My eyes widened in disbelief and I quickly tossed the first test onto the floor and snatched up the second. It showed two pink lines—not one—two. My breathing progressed to panicking proportions as the second test joined the first on the floor and I reached for the third. That test was idiot-proof. It had no symbols to decipher, no lines to be counted. It just displayed the tiny black letters that I could not escape. Pregnant.

I started shaking my head and quietly chanting, "No, no, no…" as if the actions would somehow alter the outcome of the tests. This was not happening. They had to be wrong. I had misread them. I had never done this before and it was probably just more complicated than I had thought. Maybe if I re-checked them, I could figure out what I had done wrong. I picked up the tests and looked at all of them again. Frustrated when they showed the same results, I forcefully threw them into the waste bin.

I started pacing and tugging on my hair and allowing my rampant thoughts to run away with me. I couldn't have a baby. I was eighteen years old. That number seemed ancient to me only weeks ago, but now I could appreciate how young it truly was. What did I know about having a baby? I touched my stomach and started giggling as tears flowed down my cheeks and I slid against the wall until my butt met the floor. This was crazy; _I _was crazy. I continued to shake with laughter because I had finally come to the conclusion that I had officially lost my mind and there was nothing I could do about it.

It had only been two weeks since they had left without a trace; if he thought I was pathetic and burdensome before, I wonder what he would think now. He once told me that I was like his drug, his heroin and I guessed neither of us had realized that I had become infinitely more addicted to his presence in my life than he was addicted to mine. The withdrawal effects of him leaving had sent me spiraling toward ruination, obliterating every last shred of my sanity. And no one was going to magically appear to save me this time.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe no one ever had. Maybe it was all just my imagination and they had never existed in the first place. It seemed plausible to believe that the Cullens and their secret life of vampirism and the excitement and emotion and fulfillment they had brought into my life were just an elaborate scheme my mind had concocted to keep me going when I realized how much I hated the dullness of my existence here. Well, not just here, I supposed. My life had been bland and lonely in Phoenix, too. _And leave it to me to be abandoned by my own imaginary companions_ I thought as my maniacal giggling abruptly stopped.

Now that my bizarre fairy tale of a life had turned on me, I wondered what I should do. I didn't really trust my analysis of reality anymore; should I have myself committed? Should I go shouting from the rooftops that the world was full of beautiful immortals and be rightfully locked away in a soft, white padded cell where I could spend the rest of my life being medicated to make the big, bad monsters go away? No, I couldn't handle that; I'd rather die. And with that last thought, I had my solution. Had I not only hours ago been thinking of the possibility of my life coming to an end? I had no illnesses to look forward to now, but that didn't mean that death had become impossible.

I was tired of hurting and questioning and thinking. For once, I was going to take the easy way out. Death would be my escape and I somehow knew it would be magnificent. I would no longer be trapped by my suffering and my sheer _lunacy_. I would be free. And maybe, just maybe, I would be happy in whatever world followed this one.

The only thing left to do now was to decide how to perform my final act. I exited the bathroom and walked dazedly to my truck. I went through the motions of maneuvering the vehicle back onto the road, but as the miles passed in the direction toward home, I was driving on autopilot, my thoughts swirling around the numerous methods of self-murder. There were so many options, and I was systematically weighing the pros and cons of each one.

Of course, there was the dramatic razor-slicing of my body, but I quickly decided that it was too dangerous. Even though I knew the rules—up the river not across the stream—I couldn't be sure that I would be quick enough about it to guarantee my death. Knowing my luck, the rusty scent of my blood would assault my nose before I had been able to properly mutilate myself, and I would pass out. Then I would likely wake up bandaged and strapped to a bed in a mental hospital. No good.

There was the gun-in-mouth method, but I would have a hard time acquiring a gun from Charlie's locked cabinet and I had enough of a heart left to feel bad for the scene he would stumble onto if I did that so I quickly discarded that particular technique.

I had those painkillers left over from last spring; downing them all had certainly seemed tempting over the weekend. But they, too, were risky now that I was thinking about them without the cloud of impulsivity. I could be found and rushed to the hospital where they would pump my stomach and I would wind up in the same boat as the wrist-slitting scenario. Another option tossed to the wayside.

Many more possibilities crossed my thoughts, but each one had a weakness that I could not overlook. I was searching for something specific, something perfect and it wasn't until I drove past the Quileute reservation, staring out the window at the rocky ocean scenery that the ideal method finally entered my mind. The cliffs. I could jump, sail from the ledge to the waters below and be cleansed of all of my pain as the life drifted from my body. For so long, I had felt as though I was sinking, and now I actually would. My final resting place would be on the ocean floor, another wasted life left to break apart and float away. The method was clean and fast and absolute. It was exactly what I had been looking for.

I always would have imagined that thoughts of ending one's life would hold uncertainty and apprehension. But I wasn't feeling either; instead, I was calm and sure. I knew that I wanted to die; there were no doubts left to convince me that my life was worth living. I was ready to let go now.

I turned off of the main stretch of highway and onto a secluded dirt road. I drove slowly through the mud until the path became too narrow for my sizeable truck to follow. I parked and left the keys in the ignition, the headlights still shining brightly to assist me on the initial segment of my hike to those blessed cliffs. I concentrated on each step I took, grabbing hold of low-hanging tree branches to propel myself forward whenever my sneakers would slide and sink into the mud. I fell a few times once the light had faded and I was surrounded by nothing but shadows and darkness. My clothing and hands became caked with brown gunk and plant matter; I was drenched and uncomfortable and tired and achy, but nothing deterred me from completing my journey. After about thirty minutes of tiresome hiking, the forest ended, and I could smell the salty air from the ocean. I had made it.

I slowly walked to the edge and stared down at the dark, roaring waves below. I felt a tingling sensation run throughout my entire body as I imagined what it would feel like to hit the icy waters. This was it—my final moment. I closed my eyes and whispered, "Goodbye," into the cool wind that was wrapping itself around me, swirling my rain-soaked hair wildly in all directions. It reminded me of the coolness of his arms surrounding me, and the memory made me even more eager to soar from the ledge. As I was about to step away from the solid ground, I thought I heard quick-moving footsteps behind me, but I dismissed the sound as yet another figment of my imagination. No one knew I was here. This was my moment and not a soul could ruin it. I closed my eyes, spread my arms wide as if I were a bird extending its wings for first flight and let myself fall.

As I made my decent to the crashing ocean, everything seemed to move in slow motion. In my minds-eye, I saw flashes of my life. It started with childhood days in sunny Arizona and very quickly progressed to the happiest moments I had never actually experienced with the faux-family I had created. The last image that assailed me was of Edward, his crooked smile wide as he lifted a giggling bronze-haired child above his head and spun him around in slow circles. I was trying to come to terms with that image and its threat to my current feelings of contentment when I first felt it.

The sensation didn't exactly hurt, but it wasn't entirely pleasant either. It was completely unfamiliar, yet I knew what it was as soon as it happened. Seconds before I hit the water, my hand found its way to my abdomen and I felt it again: a nudge against my palm. Panic ripped through me. The denial faded away instantaneously. I wasn't crazy. Edward, the Cullens—they were real. And I _was_ pregnant. My child had definitely just moved inside my body. My wonder at that was immediately replaced by fear. I now had a reason to live, a life—no, _lives—_to fight for.

But that realization had come too late. My baby and I were going to die and it was completely my fault. The last thing I thought before I hit the icy waters was that I had made a terrible mistake.

**Thank you to the wonderful, splendid, absolutely fabulous people who have left reviews! Reading them makes me extremely eager to continue with the story! I hope you leave love (or hate (put nicely, though, please)) for this new addition to the story :) Happy reading!!**


	6. THE SUITCASE SONG

**The last chapter involved Bella finding out that she was pregnant. Before she came to accept this revelation though, she thought she was going crazy and decided that she was tired of everything to do with her life so she jumped off of one of the La Push cliffs. On her way down, she felt the baby move, realized that she wasn't crazy after all and instantly regretted the jump. Then she hit the water. This is what happens after that…**

**6 ~ The Suitcase Song**

"**I've got my life in a suitcase,  
I'm ready to run, run, run away..  
I've got no time, 'cause I'm always trying to run, run, run away  
'Cause everyday in here feels like it's only a game.  
I've got my life in a suitcase, a suitcase, a suitcase..."**

_**The Day I Lost My Voice (The Suitcase Song) **_**by Copeland**

**Monday, September 26 (continued) to Tuesday, September 27**

_**Alice's POV**_

The water felt surprisingly pleasant against my cool skin. As I swam deeper and deeper into the salty liquid, the warm currents that kneaded my tense exterior helped to abate the emotions coursing through me during every second that I spent in this place. I had made the choice to come here, though, and I would willingly accept the hardships of that choice rather than risk the alternative that I had seen when Jasper tried to go off on his own. I shuddered at the memory of that vision as I surfaced and basked in the sunlight for a few moments before diving back down. If I had allowed him to leave, he would have given up on himself, on our family's way of life. He would have accepted the nature of our kind, and that was something that I would never allow to happen as long as I existed because I knew, even if he didn't, that he was better than that.

Still, I had to admit, it was exhausting to feel so much and never be able to fully wind down from the edginess that accompanied my every waking moment. Which, unfortunately, was every moment. For the first time that I could remember, I longed for the opportunity to sleep. I yearned to escape to a place where I wouldn't have to think so much or feel so much. But the comforts of sleep would never come for me and I knew I had to force myself to cope with my situation somehow because I loved Jasper, and he needed me to be strong enough for the both of us now that he had himself convinced that he was weak and a failure, and, to top it off, he held himself completely responsible for uprooting our family and destroying our brother's life.

Coping was a struggle, though, because with Jasper's wonderful talent of emotional manipulation, I was experiencing his guilt and self-loathing and sadness right along with him. Then, to make matters worse, I had my own emotions to deal with, and they were anything but pleasant. Bella was like a sister to me, but she was more than just family. She was my best friend. At times, when I was with her, it was easy to forget what I was, to pretend that I was _human_ and I loved her even more for giving me that precious gift of normalcy. And now she had been ripped away from me, leaving an empty space in my life and our family that would never again be filled. I wasn't sure that I could ever forgive Edward for that, but he had brought Bella into our lives and, as he said, it was his right to take her out of them if he thought her life was in danger. I had promised to adhere to his wishes, and I would keep that promise even though I knew he was an absolute fool to choose as he did.

I told him as much as soon as I had seen the decision he had made. But it was no use. His mind was determined to do what he thought would keep Bella safe and he was so blinded by his determination that there was no reasoning with him. I tried to show him what I had seen, show him the pain she would feel when we left her, but he kept blocking out the images and saying that she would heal and forget we had ever been a part of her life. There was no point in telling him what I knew, no point in telling him that he was wrong. He was too stubborn to see how much she loved him. Bella might heal, but she would never forget. A love as strong as theirs could be shattered by his hurtful words and broken promises, but it could not be forgotten.

So I had lost Bella and now, with each passing day, I knew I was getting closer to losing Jasper. He had stayed with the family for a few days, but after spending time in the company of Edward's depressing emotions, Jasper was coming apart at the seams and ten days ago, he told me he was leaving. He tried to say goodbye but I grabbed him and said that I was coming with him; wherever he went, I went. Thankfully, he didn't argue.

We said our goodbyes and headed away from civilization. Esme's island was supposed to be the cure, a way for me to remind Jasper of what a good man he could be so he would stop dwelling on the mistakes that were haunting him. For the past eight days, I spent the majority of my time here in exile trying to convince him that he was not a monster and that he was worthy of forgiveness, especially his own, but he never truly listened to me. His guilt had built up walls around his logic and no matter what I did, I couldn't break through them. It was almost as if he didn't want us to understand and forgive him. He was slowly accepting the monster he had been trying so hard to fight, despite my presence, and I was devastated. He was giving up, pulling away from me, and no matter what I said or did, I couldn't motivate him to try again.

When the time came each day, and it always did come, where I felt myself becoming frustrated and hopeless, I would leave to prevent my emotions from fully reaching him. I would take a solitary walk along the beach and then swim back to the house. Usually, the solitude would calm me enough that I would spend the remainder of the evening trying to distract Jasper from his dark thoughts and remind him how much I would eternally love him.

But today was different. Because on this day, during this swim, I felt all of the calmness disappear as the crippling vision I never wanted to see came crashing down upon me. When the images finally ended and I surfaced for the air I did not need, I pulled myself together enough to run as fast as my legs would carry me back to the house. As soon as I passed through the front door, my cell phone was in my hands and I was desperately dialing the familiar number, praying that she would pick up. After trying and failing to reach her several times, I gave up and dialed a different number. I quickly made the arrangements for the long trip back to Forks as Jasper appeared looking completely confused and distraught. I supposed my feelings of anguish and terror were the cause, but at this moment, I did not have time to explain or comfort him.

Nor did I really want to, because putting the horrible things I had seen into words would make them more real, and I did not want to accept that reality. I had to believe that there was still time to make things right because the alternative would be more than I, or the rest of my family, could handle. When the arrangements had been made and I finally closed the silver phone I had been holding onto as if my life depended on it, I turned to my husband and said, "Something bad has happened and we need to go back to Forks. I need you right now, Jasper." As soon as I mentioned returning Forks, Jasper went rigid and unreadable, so I finished in a whisper, "Please. I can't do this on my own. Please." I wrapped my arms around him and within seconds I felt a small wave of calm rush over me. I knew then that he would do this for me, even though returning to Washington was something he never wanted to do.

The last thought I had as we sailed away from Isle Esme was that I would give anything to not have to tell my brother I told you so.

_**Bella's POV**_

I awoke to the sound of hushed voices somewhere close by. My eyes opened sluggishly and everything around me was dark and unfamiliar. I was lying on a strange bed covered by layers upon layers of blankets, but my body was shivering uncontrollably. I didn't know how I had gotten here, wherever _here _was, but the aching of every part of my body told me that I wasn't going to be leaving this place anytime soon. As I was trying to get my eyes to function in the darkness so that I could gain some information about the room I was in, the voices that had been indecipherable moments ago grew louder. One voice was vaguely familiar, but my brain felt mushy and I couldn't quite put my finger on the identity of the speaker. What I could figure out was that whoever was talking now was extremely angry.

"This violates the agreement Sam!" _Sam_. Why did that name sound familiar? I continued to eavesdrop as my fuzzy mind sifted through its storage centers to locate memories of someone named Sam. "They were not supposed to harm any humans. That girl just tried to kill herself because of those filthy bloodsuckers! How can you _not_ classify that as harm?" My breathing momentarily stopped as the angry voice continued, "I say we hunt them down and kill them like our ancestors should have done in the first place."

Out of some innate necessity, my cloudy mind became more lucid. There was so much important information that I gained from the few sentences that were spoken. First and foremost, whoever was with me in this place knew about the existence of vampires and didn't seem to be extremely thrilled by it. Second, the speakers appeared to have some sort of "agreement" with the vampires. And lastly, they thought that the agreement had been broken because some girl had tried to kill—

Suddenly, the temporarily repressed memories of where I had been and what I had done before I woke up here came rushing back to me. _I_ was the girl they were talking about. _I_ had tried to kill myself. _I _had wanted to die until—my hand flew to my stomach as the realization hit me again. The baby. It had moved just before I hit the water. It was real. And now I felt nothing but the curve of my abdomen. My skin was cold and damp and _lifeless. _There was no movement from within me and I was terrified.

Terrified because in the few seconds that I had been given to come to terms with the fact that I truly was pregnant, I had fallen irreversibly in love with my child. I had been completely foolish and I couldn't bring myself to think about the possible cost of my stupidity. I had already lost one person I loved with my entire heart, and the shattered pieces had managed to give the same amount of love to the child that we had created. To lose my baby too would just—I could not even fathom it. It would be a blow from which I knew I would never recover.

I forced my thoughts from their frightened reverie when someone, I guessed Sam, replied calmly to the angry voice. "Look, Paul, I'm no fan of the Cullens either. It's their fault we changed and I'd like to rip their heads off for that reason alone. But Bella's actions were hers alone; the Cullens didn't force her to jump. I'm not saying they had nothing to do with her making that decision, but there was no direct violation of the treaty. Besides, they are long gone by now and we can't leave our people unprotected with that red-headed leech still lurking around. She needs to be taken care of first." I didn't understand. What did he mean that the Cullens had caused them to "change"? And they obviously didn't know much about vampires if they thought they would actually be able to harm one.

There was no doubt in my mind that the Cullens were safe from whatever evil thoughts were lurking in the minds of the speakers, but would I be? I doubted that the men that were with me in this place would be elated if they were to realize that they were harboring a girl that was carrying the child of someone they so obviously detested. I had to get out of here. I needed to protect my baby. I had already risked its life enough for one day and I refused to allow him to be in more danger now.

_Him_. I wasn't sure why, but guess I thought the baby was a boy. My mind conjured up the image of a beautiful, perfect little boy who was the spitting image of his father, complete with unruly bronze hair and a mischievous, crooked smile. A lump formed in my raw throat and I swallowed it painfully. He had to be okay now, despite what I had done, and I vowed that he was going to stay that way. I didn't care what I had to do to protect him.

I sat up from the bed and swung my legs over the edge once I was able to disentangle them from the mountain of blankets. My muscles ached and protested every movement, but I refused to allow the pain to deter me from making my escape from this place. My bare feet tip-toed across the cold hardwood floor in search of clothing as I tried not to think about the appalling fact that I was wearing nothing besides my bra and underwear. I could only hope that whoever had undressed me had been too concerned with preserving my life to notice the swelling of my stomach.

Unfortunately, the darkness did nothing but amplify my clumsy nature. I ran into what I imagined was a dresser of some sort, stubbing my big toe and causing something to fall and shatter on the floor. Loudly. I inwardly cursed at my blundering behavior when the male voices went silent and I heard footsteps heading in my direction. So much for sneaking out of here. As the door to the room opened slowly, I carefully made my way back to the bed and grabbed a blanket to wrap around my barely-clad form. I waited in fear as an unexpected face popped through the opening.

"Bella?" she said gently as she slipped into the room and flipped the light switch. The sudden burst of light made my vision spotty for a few moments so that all I could perceive of my visitor was the coppery tone of her skin and her long dark hair. When my eyes finally adjusted, she was standing directly in front of me and I tried hard not to stare. She was beautiful, yet damaged. The one side of her face looked as though she had been on the losing end of a fight with an irritable grizzly. I tried not to let my thoughts drift to Emmett and his love of angry bears as I studied her face and waited for her to speak again.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly, in a tone that was reminiscent of a concerned mother. When I didn't reply, she continued, "Sorry. You must be confused. My name is Emily. I'm a nurse at the reservation's health center." The reservation. A health center? I struggled to remember everything I could about La Push now that I knew, generally, where I was located. But this was certainly no health center. And while Emily seemed nice, I was way past the stage in my life where I was naïve enough to believe in first impressions. Something strange was going on here, and whatever it was, I didn't like it.

I struggled to find my voice, but eventually, I managed a few raspy words. "Where am I? How did I get here?" I tried not to let my fear carry into my voice as I spoke because I had already decided that the best route to salvation from this place was to feign ignorance.

Half of her face smiled warmly at me as she stated, "You are at my home, in my room. Don't worry. You are safe here." I tried hard not to snicker when she said that. Perhaps she was the ignorant one because if there was anything I certainly was _not_ at this place, it was safe. "Sam rescued you from…drowning and brought you here to make sure you were okay. Your father is on his way here as we speak."

I flinched when she mentioned Charlie. While I was comforted to know that I wasn't going to be trapped in this house among angry people that loathed vampires, I was almost as horrified at the idea of facing my father right now. I had no way of knowing what he had been told about my actions today but so far I had skipped school, discovered I was pregnant, and tried and nearly succeeded in killing myself, so I was pretty sure my reunion with my father was not going to be a pleasant one. I was just starting to think of what I was going to tell Charlie when the bedroom door swung open again and two huge men silently entered the room. The one that I recognized as Sam stood behind Emily and wrapped his arms protectively around her as he stared at me. The other man, the one that I did not recognize, though I assumed he was the owner of the angry voice, just stood by the door, crossed his arms in front of his monstrous chest and glared. After a few long minutes of silence and staring, Sam spoke.

"Bella, your father will be here any minute so there are a few things we need to iron out before he gets here. All I told him was that we pulled you out of the ocean when we saw you struggling in the water. Whatever else you choose to share with him will be at your discretion. But I am hoping that you will never again try to do what we both know you were attempting earlier today." I looked at him, but said nothing to acknowledge that he was correct in his assessment of my actions. I didn't need to explain myself to him and what I chose to do in the future, as far as I was concerned, was none of his damn business. He continued, "There is something else. We know you were close to the Cullens, so we can only imagine that you are aware of their—condition." I heard Paul scoff at Sam's choice of words and my gaze flitted to his face in time to see the anger that flashed in his eyes.

I returned my gaze to Sam, and attempted to put on my best poker face. But I apparently sucked at it because he said, "That's what I thought. We know that they left, but we don't know why, and now there is someone else with a similar—condition that has been prowling around Forks and for some reason she always seems to be heading in the direction of your house when we chase her off. Do you know anything about this?" His tone was coaxing, but I honestly had nothing that I wished to share. Until a part of Sam's earlier conversation with Paul came to the forefront of my memory. He had said that a "red-headed leech" was lurking around and I knew instantly who she was and why she was here. And in that same moment, I knew that I needed to leave Forks. As long as I was here, she would be here and everyone that I cared about—my father, my baby—would be in danger.

Before I was given the chance to conjure up a lie to tell Sam, Paul said, "Charlie's here." I wasn't sure how he knew that since I certainly hadn't heard any indication that someone had arrived, but, sure enough, in less than a minute, I heard a car door slam and then a loud knock sounded from somewhere close by. Sam left the room to answer the door and Paul followed his exit. Emily wordlessly moved to her dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt and handed them to me. She again smiled at me with half of her face and said "Your sneakers and a pair socks are in the corner there by the bed." She then left the room to allow me to get dressed.

I had just finished putting on the clothing and tying the laces on my shoes when the door swung open and a frantic-looking Charlie burst into the room. Before I had time to react, he had pulled me into a tight hug. When I could no longer breathe, I pushed away from him. He looked me over, I guess to reassure himself that I was still in one piece and then his attention moved to Sam. He shook Sam's hand, and then Paul's, profusely thanking each of them for saving my life. I also expressed my genuine thanks to all of them, and then Charlie walked me out to the cruiser with his arm securely holding me to his side. I was pretty sure he was afraid that if he let go of me, I would disappear. I wondered what had been running through his mind when he arrived home to find me gone and instantly felt guilty for what I had obviously put him through. The guilt was only multiplied as I realized that it would be nothing compared to what I was going to do to him in the coming days. I got into the cruiser and waited to leave as Charlie made arrangements to have Sam follow us home in my truck.

We drove to our house in silence, which I was grateful for because it gave me time to think about what I was going to do. A few hours ago, I had wanted nothing more than to bring an end to my life. And then, in an instant, everything had changed. Now I desperately wanted to live. Edward—I inhaled sharply as I thought of him but I managed to stop the tears that had formed from leaving my eyes—he hadn't left me alone after all. He had left a part of himself with me—a blessing and a curse rolled into one tiny bundle.

A blessing because even if I never saw him again, our child would be a piece of him that would never leave me, a constant reminder of the way it felt when I thought he would love me forever, just as he had once promised. But it was also a curse because our child would only strengthen my self-imposed exile from the life I had known. I could not explain my situation to Charlie or Renée when I did not fully understand it myself. The child was growing quickly and I had no way of knowing how much time would pass before it was born or even what the child would _be._ The only family I could go to for help and answers had left and I didn't even know where to start looking for them. And even if I could somehow get past all of that, now that I knew Victoria was back, I had no choice but to leave. If it had just been me, I would have gladly served myself to her on a silver platter. But I had my child to think about now, and I needed to keep him safe from her. I wasn't sure exactly how Sam and Paul were able to escape death if they had been chasing her around, but I certainly wasn't about to trust the two weak tribesmen with the life of my child if we had a vampire after us. But where could I go? I had no one now.

And then I thought of them. Maybe the Cullens were not the only place I could turn to for answers. On a few occasions, there had been mention of another "vegetarian" family. They lived in Alaska, and they were probably my last hope of learning what to expect from this baby. With a new wave of determination, I decided that I was going to find them. I knew my life would not be easy in the coming days, but I also knew I would do anything to protect the child that grew within me. He was more important than everything else. His safety was the only thing that mattered now.

So I would have to leave Forks and there was very little chance I would ever be able to return. And, sadly, I could think of only one way that I could leave without Charlie turning into Police Chief Swan, finding me and dragging me back here. It was a more permanent kind of leaving, the kind that I had sought to accomplish mere hours ago. It would break Charlie's heart, and Renée's, and I hated the idea of hurting them this way. But their anguish was a small price to pay for the safety of my child, and I had to believe that, if they knew they whole story, if they knew exactly why I had to hurt them this way, they would understand. I knew they would grieve over my "death", but then they would move on. And we—the baby and I—would live.

I started to sift through all of the possible places for me to stage my disappearance, but it took only a few seconds for me to realize that the method of death I had chosen earlier today was still the best option for the situation I now found myself in. I had never been talented at faking things, but even if I was, I didn't have the time or the knowledge or the resources to make my death believable by more elaborate means. I had to keep this simple if I was to have any hope of pulling it off. I needed to make the town of Forks think that I had died even though my body would never be found, and plummeting to my death from the highest ledge in La Push was the easiest way to do that. If I left a convincing note, people would deduce that I had jumped from the cliffs and finding my body in the depths of the wild ocean would be nearly impossible even if it had actually been there. Sam and Paul would hopefully be helpers to this plan because they would be able to tell Charlie the truth about why I had been in the water tonight. They would all assume that I had tried again, and this time it would seem as though I had succeeded.

I knew that Charlie would resist the idea at first. He would possess a measure of hope that I was still alive, a hope that stems from the denial that is part of the grieving process. A few days, or a week, maybe, would pass while Charlie exhausted himself searching for his missing daughter. Then the truth would sink in, and he would mourn for me. I shuddered at the thought of causing him such pain, but he was strong, and I knew he would eventually move past his sorrow. And maybe, if I was extremely lucky, Victoria would also believe the lie. She would think me dead and leave the town of Forks—and my father—behind forever.

Now that I had the beginnings of a plan on how I was going to disappear, I knew I needed to figure out how, exactly, I was going to get to Denali. I couldn't drive my truck because it would look suspicious if both myself and my truck suddenly disappeared and even if that hadn't been the case, for once in my life I wanted to travel faster than 55 miles per hour. I couldn't book a flight there or buy a new vehicle or do anything, really, without showing some sort of ID. And if I showed ID, I could be tracked to wherever I was going and the jig would be up. Unless I didn't use _my_ ID. I decided to do some research when we got home and I had my sluggish computer at my disposal to see what I could do about this situation. There had to be a way to get myself a new identity. I just hoped that I could do it soon. Then I could hideout in Seattle until I could catch a flight to Alaska.

I broke free from my thoughts when I noticed that we had pulled into our driveway. I wanted to immediately run into the house, up to my room, and get on the computer to begin my research, but I knew that I needed to take my time and put on a proper show for Charlie. I took a deep breath as I followed him into the house and he turned to look at me with a wide array of emotions. One minute, he seemed relieved, the next angry, and the next confused and sad. Finally, his features just jumbled into an unreadable mask and I had no idea what was coming, so I prepared myself for the worst. It was time the first act in my role as the suicidal teenager. It shouldn't be _that _difficult, I decided, considering that only a few hours ago, I had been one.

Charlie spoke, seemingly struggling to maintain his composure. "Bells. What happened today?"

I frowned, wondering what I could say to him that would best support the role I needed to play. I decided that first I needed to determine exactly how much he already knew, so I quietly said, "Nothing.

His response was just as I had expected, and hoped for. He was angry, but only because he was worried. Charlie had never gotten mad at me for any other reason, because I had never given him cause to do so. But he had never, _never _shouted at me before, so when he started yelling, the look of shock on my face was genuine. "Nothing!?! Do you honestly expect me to believe that? I came home to an empty house and found a message on the answering machine that you cut your afternoon classes. Then I found out from Angela, who stopped in here to see how you were, by the way, that you ran out of school distraught and crying. I didn't know where you were or how to find you. You just disappeared. I was going out of my mind with worry, contacting every person I could think of to figure out where you were, when, in between my calls, the phone rings and Sam Uley tells me you were at the reservation after nearly drowning to death in the ocean. So stop lying to me and tell me what the hell happened!" He was breathing heavily now, his eyes wild, searching my face for an explanation.

Stop lying, huh? I almost laughed as I thought through the true answer to his question. _Well, Charlie, after I ditched school, I went to Port Angeles to buy a pregnancy test because Edward and I had sex on my birthday and I seemed to be exhibiting some symptoms that led me to believe I was carrying his child. As it turns out, I was right. The baby is growing at an alarmingly fast rate, so he will be arriving rather quickly, and I have no idea whether he will take after me and display only human characteristics, or whether he will develop more along the lines of his father's genetics, and become a vampire. Oh yeah, didn't I mention? The Cullens are all vampires, but don't' worry they're the good kind. Anyway, we're in for a big surprise, Grandpa! Oh, I almost forgot. After I figured out that I was pregnant, I freaked, thought I was a delusional nutcase and jumped off a cliff to try to end the insanity._

This was definitely one of those instances where Charlie couldn't handle the truth. I had a sneaking suspicion that if I had actually voiced my thoughts aloud, he would have had a stroke or a heart attack or gone into shock or something. He, like most other humans, would likely have a hard time accepting that storybook monsters really existed. For now, it was better that I stick to the lies, even if they wound up breaking his heart.

I carefully thought through my real response, maintaining a grim expression on my face the entire time, and then said "It was just a bad day for me. School was just—hard. I didn't really feel like I belonged there anymore. So I left and went for a drive and I wound up at the beach. I needed to clear my head so I started walking along the water and then, before I knew what was happening, I slipped and got caught in the current. I don't remember Sam rescuing me, I just remember waking up." I tried to form an expression that indicated a slight unhappiness at the fact that I had woken up. I wanted him to wonder what thoughts were running through my head, but not be certain enough of them that he would have me committed for being a danger to myself. I prayed that, for once, I was giving an Oscar-worthy performance because so much was riding on Charlie buying every line I fed him.

He assessed me carefully and then softly replied, "Bella, the next time you decide to cut school halfway through the day and disappear for a few hours, you may want to let me know where you are going so I don't go crazy worrying where you are. Please." The last word, said in a pleading tone that I had never before heard from him, carried so much more than a simple parental request for information about where I was going to be. It sounded more like a heartfelt plea. I imagined it must have been a similar tone to the one he had used to try and talk my mother out of leaving him all those years ago. My heart ached for him, for what I was doing to him. I knew without a doubt that he would believe the lie, that he would believe I was gone. I knew because everything about him was wordlessly begging me not to say goodbye.

"Okay, Dad," I replied quietly, looking everywhere but at him. I was afraid if I did—if I saw the fear and pain in his eyes—I would break down in tears knowing what I was going to do to him. I quickly decided that I would have to avoid him as much as possible before my departure, even though what I really wanted was to spend as much time with him as I had left, to give him a big hug and to tell him that I loved him. I felt the tears forming in my eyes and knew that I needed to get to my room quickly, to escape from my father as much as to continue my planning. I sniffed and said, "I'm really tired, Dad. I'm gonna just go to bed." I turned and made my way toward my room, leaving Charlie to stand behind me in sadness and silence.

Once I had reached the safety of my room, I quickly turned on my computer and waited impatiently as it hummed to life. I spent the next half hour doing searches for things like fake IDs and how to change your identity when I finally located a promising website. It sold authentic looking licenses, and, if you paid enough, they could be shipped to you within 24 hours. I had a few decisions to make before I sent them my information, though.

First, I needed to decide what name I wanted to use. The last name came to me rather easily. It was only right, after all. I wanted my child to be named for his father, so what better surname to use than Edward's? But not Cullen. The Denali vampires would recognize the name too easily and I had already decided that I didn't wish for the Cullen's to be aware of my situation, lest they try to come back into my life over feelings of obligation. I would always love them, but I would not allow myself to need them if they did not return my affections. So my last name would be Masen. I briefly wished that Edward had cared for me enough to give me his name willingly, but I quickly dismissed the idea and started pondering what my first name would be.

I could no longer be Isabella, but I knew I needed something familiar to hold on to, something that would keep me tethered to my life before all of this had happened, a reminder of my human family. My eyes wondered around my room as I thought and when they fell on my grandmother's chair, it came to me. She had been the only person to call me by the name I was now thinking of, so it would be unfamiliar to almost everyone who knew me, yet familiar enough to me that I would naturally respond to it. My mother had always hated the nickname, which I imagined was part of the reason why Gran had used it. I flipped open a notebook and signed my new name, staring at the curved letters and coming to terms with it: Layla Marie Masen.

Next, I could choose to be from any state, and, thinking of Edward's heritage, I quickly decided on ordering a license with an address for Chicago, Illinois. The last decision I had to make concerned the photograph. There was a definite possibility that Charlie would post missing persons flyers around the area after I had disappeared, and a new ID would do me no good if the picture matched up to the posters that, I'm sure, would make their way into circulation at the airport. Somehow, I would have to change my appearance, but I would have to wait until I reached Seattle to avoid being recognized by people at hair salons and shopping venues closer to home. I would change my hair and maybe buy some colored contacts before taking the picture for my new ID. Then I would hide out in one of those seedy little motels that would give me a room for cold, hard cash—no identification, no questions asked—until the little plastic card arrived and gave me my ticket to a new life.

Once the decisions about my identity and a list of tasks to accomplish in Seattle had been made, I started my research on Alaska. I wanted to learn as much as possible about where I was going so that I could find the Denali coven as soon as possible. I was not looking forward to the weather or the wilderness that I learned would greet me once I made my way to Alaska, but it would be well worth it in the end if I could find out information that would help my child. After about two hours of scrolling through countless pages of information, I was fairly certain that once I received my ID, I would take a plane to Fairbanks and then hop on a train that would take me to Denali. Once I arrived there, I was less sure of the steps I would take, but I had a long traveling ride to think about it.

When I felt comfortable that all aspects of my trip had been adequately planned, I turned off my computer and quietly packed my backpack with a small supply of clothing, the notebook that held all of the information I would need to complete my trip and my sock of emergency cash. I was leaving tomorrow, partly because I knew I couldn't be around Charlie for very long without falling apart and partly because I knew I wouldn't make it through another day of high school in this place. Plus, the sooner I got to Seattle, the sooner I could look different and order my license and start my journey.

I slept soundly that night, and for that I was thankful. I could only imagine that all of the thoughts running through my head throughout the day had exhausted my brain too much for it to function in sleep. I awoke before my alarm and watched out my window as Charlie exited the house, got in the cruiser and left for work. It would be the last time I was going to see him. I allowed the tears to fall, and allowed the pain I was feeling to fuel the words I carefully wrote to my father. When I finished the note, I folded it in half and left it lying on my bed. I went downstairs and called for the taxi, knowing that it would take a few hours to arrive. I waited for awhile, just walking around the house and committing to memory the world I was leaving behind. Before I knew it, the time had come for me to go. I grabbed my bag, looked around my room one last time, then walked to my truck, the tears still falling.

I had decided to leave the truck parked close to area of the cliffs, and then walk to the highway to meet up with the taxi from Seattle. I drove slowly toward La Push, my thoughts drifting to my child as they had many times in the past hours. I still hadn't felt any movement and that scared me. For one brief instant, I wondered if all my careful planning had been for nothing. I wondered if I had already destroyed what I was now trying so desperately to protect. The despair that filled me at the thought of that possibility was crippling so I pushed it aside and focused all of my attention on what I was about to do.

I parked the truck similarly to last night and then walked through the forest in the drizzling rain, leaving easily identifiable footprints in the mud as I made my way to the cliffs. I then doubled back through the foliage to prevent the discovery of my trail toward the taxi. I became increasingly nervous as I approached the yellow and black vehicle on the highway, pulling the hat that I was wearing further down on my head to shield my face from the driver's view. I threw my backpack on the seat and then ducked inside the warm vehicle, thankful that the driver had the heater on full blast because the rain had picked up on my way back and I was sopping wet and shivering from head to toe. I quickly informed him of my destination and then I was on my way.

As the minutes and the miles passed and the scenery changed from forests to city buildings, I did my best to let go. There was no turning back now. Regardless of what my future held the life that I had known ended today. Isabella Swan was dead.


	7. HOW DO YOU GET THAT LONELY

**In the last chapter, Bella was saved from drowning and met a couple of the wolves—although she doesn't yet know that—and she learned that Victoria is hanging around. She makes the decision to fake her death and leave Forks in order to protect her father and find out information about her baby. Alice had a vision of Bella's jump that ended just before Bella hit the water (that would be when Bella realized the baby was real), so she and Jasper are on their way back to Forks, as are the rest of the Cullens. This chapter involves what happens when Bella disappears, though Bella's POV will be saved for the next chapter. It may get a bit intense or sad at some moments. You have been warned. Enjoy, lovelies!**

**7 ~ How Do You Get That Lonely?**

"**It was just another story printed on the second page  
Underneath the Tiger's football score  
It said he was only eighteen, a boy about my age  
They found him face down on the bedroom floor  
There'll be services on Friday at the Lawrence Funeral Home  
Then out on Mooresville highway, they'll lay him 'neath a stone...  
Did his girlfriend break up with him, did he buy or steal that gun?  
Did he lose a fight with drugs or alcohol?  
Did his Mom and Daddy forget to say I love you son?  
Did no one see the writing on the wall?  
I'm not blamin' anybody, we all do the best we can  
I know hindsight's 20/20, but I still don't understand  
How do you get that lonely, how do you hurt that bad  
To make you make the call, that havin' no life at all  
Is better than the life that you had  
How do you feel so empty, you want to let it all go  
How do you get that lonely**

**And nobody knows**"

_**How Do You Get That Lonely? **_**by Blaine Larsen**

**Tuesday, September 27 to Sunday, October 2**

_**Charlie's POV**_

I remember absolutely everything about that moment. Even through the shock that accompanied it, I could recognize the irony of my situation. It was exactly 11:03 AM and I had just returned to the station after being called to the scene of a single vehicle accident caused by a young man who thought he and his motorcycle were invincible enough to take a slick curve with entirely too much speed. I watched them load the pieces of his mangled form into the body bag with a grim expression, wondering if the day would ever come where these kids would stop being so foolish and thanking God that Bella was level-headed enough to never ride one of those death traps.

Or, at least, she used to be level-headed. Over the past couple of weeks she had become unpredictable, and it scared the hell out of me because that just wasn't Bella. Edward had turned her into someone different, someone I didn't know, and I just wanted my little girl back. She was still in so much pain, though, and I had started to think that maybe I'd never see my daughter smile again. But then last night she had finally slept without screaming and I couldn't help but be optimistic. I had checked on her about once every hour just to make sure she was still in the house—which I felt was only reasonable seeing as how she had disappeared earlier in the day—and every time I cracked open her bedroom door, she was there, resting peacefully. I hoped that this was a turning point and she was finally starting to move on. I hoped that, someday soon, my happy daughter would return to me.

As I sat down at my desk to quickly gather some pamphlets on grief counseling and support groups for parents that had lost their children, my thoughts drifted away from Bella and back to the accident victim. Even after all these years, seeing gruesome sites like that still caused my stomach to turn. They were always so young, and the idea of visiting yet another family to relay the devastating news was not a task I was looking forward to. No matter how many times I performed my least favorite part of this job, it never became easier. Sure, we had our protocols of what we should say and how we should say it, but there was no painless way to tell parents that they will never again see their child alive and well. There was no cure for the grief that filled their eyes and flowed down their faces. There was no easy way to tell them that all their hopes and dreams for their son's future would never come to pass. I sighed as I glanced at the clock, and decided that I couldn't put off the task any longer, despite my overwhelming desire to do so.

As I stood up from my desk, my phone startled me by ringing. I don't know why, but my heart started pounding and I was shaking as my hand grasped the receiver much too tightly and I brought the phone to my ear. "Chief Swan," I said to the person on the other end of the line. Perhaps, in that moment, I had experienced a brief psychic episode because before any other words were spoken, before I even knew the identity of the caller, I _knew_ that this one phone call would change my life forever.

The seconds before the caller responded felt like an eternity until, finally, he hesitantly spoke. "Charlie?" I recognized the voice instantly. After all, I had heard it just last night when he had stepped out of Bella's truck, said goodbye and disappeared, but it was different then. Last night, his words had brought me comfort. Today, his brief pause was all I needed to hear to know that the news he shouldered was not good. My lips trembled as I held back the flood of questions that filled my mind and allowed him to continue. "It's Sam. I—uh—well, Charlie you need to come down to the reservation. It's a—it's about Bella."

It was all there. The hesitation, the stuttering, the elusive statements; they were all staples of the phone call someone makes when they have bad news to tell you and they can't bring themselves to just spit it out. They were all the things I had done during the early years of the job when I had called loved ones of victims into the hospital or the morgue. But it couldn't be something like that. Bella was safe in school. And if something had happened to her, Sam wouldn't be telling me to meet him at the reservation. It must just be something he needed to tell me about last night, something he couldn't say to me with Bella around. Yes, that had to be it. My brain was screaming at me, telling me not to press for more information until I reached the reservation, but I couldn't help myself. "What about Bella?" I asked with more calmness than I truly felt. I waited impatiently for Sam to quiet his deep breaths and respond.

"Well, Charlie. We—we found her truck near the woods about thirty minutes ago. We've been searching all over the place, and we think we found her footprints but we haven't been able to find her. And then we went back to the truck and—well, there's something you need to see." I couldn't decipher his tone. It sounded sad and angry at the same time but there was something more there. If all my years of policing had taught me anything, I would surmise that he was feeling guilty. And I wanted—no I _needed—_to know why.

"I'm coming now. Where did you say you found her truck?" I was shocked at the steadiness of the words that left my mouth because my emotions were anything but stable.

"Near the turnoff for the cliff trail. If you drive down the dirt road a little bit, you can't miss it," Sam replied quietly.

"I'll meet you there," I said, then hung up the receiver, grabbed my coat and practically ran out of the office. My deputies might have asked me where I was going, they might have been concerned, questioning, but I didn't notice. I had only one mission right now: find my daughter.

_**Jasper's POV**_

No matter how many times it happened, it never became easier. Part of me was grateful for Alice's gift; it had certainly helped us on numerous occasions and it made my family's critical decision-making extremely easy. After all, what better way was there to make the correct choice when you can find out the outcome of your choices before you act?

But there was a selfish part of me that wished that Alice never experienced her visions, because when she did, it's like she has disappeared. As soon as her eyes took on that vacant, glazed appearance, she no longer existed on my emotional radar. When she was in the process of seeing the things that could happen, it was like everything Alice was had gone away and she became a mere conduit for information. Sometimes I worried that she would see something so horrid that she would never return to me; instead she'd just keep searching for new information, trying to find a different outcome for the future. I worried that I would lose her and, despite my horrendous past that would make one imagine I was incapable of such emotions, I loved Alice with my whole heart and soul. She had been the center of my universe, my sun, since the moment we met, and if she disappeared forever, if her visions one day consumed her, I feared I might fall, once again, into the darkness that had been wrapped around me since my early days of existing as a vampire.

It was days such as this that served to strengthen my fears of this occurrence. Alice had not formed more than a monosyllabic response to every statement I had made since we departed Isle Esme. And no matter how many times I tried to convince her to talk to me about what she had seen, she just sat there, shaking her head and staring off into the distance, searching. I felt her sometimes, her sadness and her panic practically tangible in the atmosphere that surrounded us. It was at these times that I knew she was with me and I tried to surround her with waves of calm, but it was like trying to fix a mortal wound with a band aid. Whatever she had seen had disabled her, and without more information, I didn't know what to do to make it right. She drifted in and out of feeling throughout the entire trip, sixteen hours of hellish torture until we were about 30 minutes outside of Forks driving west on route 101. At that moment, Alice finally looked at me and started screaming.

_**Charlie's POV**_

I didn't remember much about the drive to that dirt road. The entire time I had been concentrating too hard on coming up with logical reasons why, when I called the high school, Mrs. Cope had told me that Bella hadn't shown up today. Maybe she had a flat tire. Or she overslept. Or she was sick. Hell, I would settle for her just plain not feeling like going today. _Anything_ would be better than what my instincts told me was going on.

I pulled up next to her faded pickup truck and quickly walked to the driver's side door to meet Sam and Paul. Both of them were looking at the ground as I approached, but when I reached them, Sam raised his eyes and spoke softly. "Hey, Charlie. It's on the seat—the note we found." I didn't register anything he said after that. My pounding heart was deafening as my eyes sought out the offending slip of paper. I could see her writing, it was a single line, but the words were indecipherable at a distance. The door creaked open slowly and my trembling fingers picked up the note as if it were a ticking time bomb. When it was close enough for me to make out the words, my breathing slowly stabilized.

"What's this supposed to mean?" I calmly asked the two young men standing before me. The words made no sense to me, but I could see in the brief look they shared before meeting my gaze that I was out of a very important loop.

Sam looked up to the sky for a moment, appearing to search for the right thing to say, and then the dams opened up and his words came out in a rush. "I'm so sorry. We should have told you last night. I don't know why we didn't; I guess we just thought that she wouldn't do it again. You see yesterday, when we told you we rescued Bella from drowning," he paused to catch his breath and work up the courage to continue "well, we did save her but what we didn't tell you was how she came to be in the water in the first place." My eyes narrowed and he looked away from me for a moment, clenching his jaw and taking a deep breath before he looked me straight in the eye again and said, "Charlie, she jumped. Off of the cliffs. Some of us do it sometimes for kicks, but this was different. We saw her up there, right before it happened. She just let herself fall and we almost didn't get to her in time. We told her last night that we knew what she was doing and she shouldn't do it again, but now…" His words trailed off and the meaning of her note started to sink in. But just in case I was incompetent, Sam continued, "We think she jumped again. Her footprints lead straight to the ledge, and she isn't anywhere in the forest or the water, that we could find. We weren't there to save her this time. We were too late. Charlie, we're so, so sorry."

_If at first you don't succeed…_ That was the note Bella had left for me to find. Or perhaps she had left it for these two, the two who had saved her yesterday. The only two who would understand what she meant by the cryptic phrase. My thoughts raced. Had she tried again? Did she really—did she really jump off of one of the cliffs? My heart answered no. She was my baby girl, my daughter; she wouldn't have done something so stupid. She couldn't. It's just not possible. Why would she even _think_ about it? Not because of _him_. She was smarter than that. She knew it was just a silly teenage romance, that he was nothing and she was everything. She had her whole future ahead of her, her whole life to live and enjoy. She couldn't be—I shook my head back and forth and backed away from the truck slowly. It's just not possible.

I wasn't sure when or why the tears had started, but my vision became blurred and my fists tightened and untightened around the cruel message. I hastily wiped the tears away and cleared my throat. There was no need to cry because Bella was fine. This was just a misunderstanding. I took out my cell phone and dialed the station. By the time I was through talking, I had made sure a missing persons report was filed and everyone in the small town was going to be notified to start looking for her immediately. She was out there somewhere, waiting to be found. Just like last time. We would find her. I knew we would.

Sam had said they didn't find her in the water below the cliffs and I chose to take that as a good sign. If she wasn't down there, she hadn't jumped. That was just the way it was. I kept telling myself she didn't jump, repeating it over and over again in my mind as Sam drove me back to the house in silence. He had apologized numerous times during the trip until I had yelled at him to stop apologizing because Bella was okay. _She didn't jump. _It was my mantra. It was the only thing keeping me from losing it.

The house was pitch black when we pulled into the driveway. It looked so strange and _empty_. Usually when I got home, the lights were on in the kitchen as Bella made dinner. Yesterday it was dark when I arrived, and I was scared then, too, but I had brought her home. She was okay. Today would be the same. _She didn't jump._

Sam and I walked into the house and I turned on every light as I made my way to her bedroom. When I opened her door and flicked the light on, my eyes immediately fell upon the folded stationery lying on her bed. My heart dropped into my stomach and pounded there uncontrollably. Everything about the slip of paper was identical to the one that had been left in her truck. I took slow, painful steps toward her bed, not wanting to see her scripted words, but needing to see them all in the same moment. I swallowed hard and unfolded the note, the tears falling almost immediately. As I carefully read each line, all hope I had maintained over the past hour vanished into thin air.

_Dad,_

_I don't know what to say to you other than I am sorry for the pain I know you will be in when you find this. If I felt like there was another way to handle the situation I find myself in, I would not leave you like this. I would try to move on and repair my shattered life. I would try to make you proud. But the choices I have made and the problems that resulted from them cannot be fixed and I have realized that everything about the life I knew ceased to exist on my 18__th__ birthday. I am tired of acting as if I am still alive when I feel dead inside, so today I am going to stop pretending. I only hope that you love me enough to forgive me._

_I love you always. Goodbye._

_Bella_

I read and reread her words until I could no longer see through the river of my tears. For the second time in my life, I cried so hard that I struggled just to breathe. But there was one key difference between this time and the last. When I had cried this way before, the person I had lost was not gone forever. I could still see her and talk to her and love her from a distance, even if she no longer loved me. I thought that had been the worst experience of my life, when Renee had left me and taken our daughter with her, but it was a sunny day in the park compared to this. Bella, my sweet girl, she was gone. I would never see her smile again; I would never hear her voice. I would never get to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. God, I couldn't even remember the last time I told her I loved her. Did she know? Did she know she was my shining star, my proudest achievement, that she made my world happier from the second she first entered it? Why hadn't I told her? Why was this happening? There were so many things I still needed to tell her. I just always thought we would have more time. But I was wrong.

_**Jasper's POV**_

I stopped the car along the side of the highway and desperately pulled Alice from the vehicle before she destroyed it, or herself, with her flailing arms. Luckily, I managed to get her behind the cover of trees and wrap her securely in my arms before any passerby had time to notice our unusual behavior. Every action was difficult, though, every movement I made torturous because Alice was making it so. The close proximity of our bodies infused our emotions into one giant mass of pain and I felt as though my head was going to explode. I sat on the ground, holding her in my lap, forcing myself to tolerate the throbbing ache coursing through my body as I hugged her tightly and rocked her back and forth. I tried to break down the emotions so that I could attempt to soothe her, but her grief was overwhelming. Shock, anger and despair were also radiating from her in sporadic waves, but nothing surpassed her sorrow. Alice's beautiful heart was breaking right in front of me, within me, her tiny body convulsing in tearless sobs, and I could do nothing but whisper to her that it would be okay—even though I knew I may have been lying—and wait until she was strong enough to tell me what the hell was going on.

I wasn't a complete imbecile. As soon as Alice stated that we had to return to Forks, I knew she had seen something related to Bella. I cringed as I thought of our human sister and what had transpired the last time I was in her presence. I could still smell her delicious scent; I could still feel the monster within me that had desperately wanted to take her life. I inwardly cursed at myself for being so weak. She was a part of our family; she had been ever since the day Edward realized he was in love with her, even if she hadn't known it. And I had attacked her, or, rather, I had tried to. I didn't even know how Edward could stand to look at me after what I had cost him. If I hadn't lost control that night our family wouldn't have left. Bella and Edward would still be together, becoming stronger as their love grew instead of falling apart. I shuddered to think what path I had set into motion with my failure as I rubbed my hands soothingly up and down Alice's trembling back.

The minutes slowly passed and she eventually quieted in my calming embrace. I sat there waiting, and, finally, my patience was rewarded by the sound of her quiet voice. "Jasper?" she whispered as she shifted in my arms slightly and looked up at me. The pain I saw in her dark eyes made me instantly want to hunt down and punish whoever had caused it, because they had taken the light away from her. Alice's spirit had been snuffed out, and I wanted to know why. She seemed to be struggling to form words, her brow furrowing in concentration as she organized her thoughts. "Jasper she's gone. I can't find her. I can't _see_ her anymore." Alice started breathing heavily, crying as she spoke. "She just disappeared and I thought we would be in time to fix it. I had to fix his mistake." Her lower lip quivered as she continued softly, "But we're too late. I saw—I saw them—Charlie, I saw him—he was on the phone with Renee. He said she's—he said she's dead." Alice squeezed her eyes shut as if to block out the details of whatever she had seen and her petite hands held onto me as if her immortal life depended on it.

I stopped breathing. What had I done? What had _we_ done? There were so many questions I wanted to ask, so many things that made no sense. But I knew that they would have to wait. If Alice's vision was correct, and I prayed with every fiber of my existence that it was not, what I needed to do right now was reassemble our family. I only hoped that I wouldn't be bringing us together just so that a tragedy could break us apart. My own hands were shaking as I pulled the small silver phone out of my jacket pocket and dialed Carlisle's number at an inhuman speed.

He answered on the second ring. "Hello Jasper. How's the island treating you?" There was an obvious smile in his voice; he probably thought I was calling to say that Alice and I were coming home. I only wished I had that news to share.

"We're not on the island anymore, Carlisle. We're headed to Forks. Alice—" Before I could finish, he cut me off.

"What? Why? I thought we all agreed to stay away, for our sake as well as Bella's. We all promised to honor Edward's wishes. Why on earth would you be going back there?" He wasn't angry; it just wasn't in his nature. He was curious. Carlisle was the rational one, the saint, the one that all of us looked up to and aspired to be. I wondered how he would fare once he learned the reasoning for our sudden return to rainy Washington. I wondered if he would have the strength to hold our family together.

I was about to tell Carlisle what Alice had said when she disappeared into another vision and then snapped out of it in a panic, clasping her hand over the phone and whispering, "Don't tell him. Not now. Edward can't find out this way. He can't be alone."

I looked at her in confusion but nodded at her request and said to Carlisle, "Alice had a vision. She said we had to go back. All of us. Even Edward. Especially Edward. Please, Carlisle, say whatever needs to be said to get him to come back. I can't give you the details now, but we will talk once everyone is back in Forks." I took Alice's hand and began walking back toward the car as I waited for Carlisle to respond.

"We'll catch a flight as soon as possible and meet you at the house. Edward isn't here, but I will call him and make sure he joins us. I'm going to warn you, though, Jasper, he's not going to be happy that we're going back. I hope you have a good reason." If only he knew.

As I made sure Alice was situated comfortably in the passenger seat and I walked to the driver's side, I said, "Our reasoning is legitimate. Just make sure everyone gets here fast, please. We'll see you at the house." I hung up the phone, shifted into gear and sped along the highway toward a place that I had never intended to see again.

_**Charlie's POV**_

Sam had followed me upstairs and he just stood quietly in the corner of her room as I read Bella's final words and lost every last shred of my control. He said nothing, because what could he really say? That he was sorry? What good were his apologies to me now? They wouldn't change what had happened. Bella was never coming back. After a while he left me to my grief and I knew he had gone when I heard the front door slam. My mind must have been unstable because I could have sworn I heard a wolf howling seconds after he left.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed before my eyes could shed no more tears and I forced myself to walk downstairs and pick up the phone. I dialed the number in Jacksonville and waited for the only other person who could share the magnitude of my pain to pick up on the other end of the line. When I heard her voice, so similar to Bella's, I almost broke down again. "Hello?" she said pleasantly, still unaware that her world was about to dissolve around her.

"Renée? It's Charlie," I stated emotionlessly. I knew I had to detach myself for the moment, or I would never be able to get the words out.

"Oh, hey Charlie. How's she doing? Is she getting better? I sent her an email yesterday but she never answered me. Is she there? Can I talk to her?" Just like every other time I had spoken to Renée, it was impossible to get a word in between her rambling questions. To be fair, though, I wasn't really trying because I still had no idea how to tell her. I didn't want to destroy her like this. I didn't want to say the words aloud. I didn't want this to be real.

I decided that I needed to just do it, though, so I said, "No, she's not here. Renée, something's happened." I don't know if it was my tone of voice or if her own parental sixth sense had just kicked in but I no longer heard her breathing on the other end of the line. I continued, "I found a note. And her truck. But she's gone. We're still looking, but, Renée, it's not good. We think—" My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't help but let out a sob before I said, "We think she might have killed herself." My heart broke a little bit more as the words sounded in my ears for the first time. And then a little more when I heard the crashing sound as the phone Renée had been holding fell to the floor with a bang. I waited on the line, hoping that Phil was there with her. I heard her repeat the word "no" over and over again as she started to cry.

After a few minutes, I heard a muffled voice and then Phil was on the line demanding answers. "What is going on," he practically shouted into the receiver. "Who is this?"

I temporarily sobered up, angry at his voice for some unknown reason. Maybe I just didn't want to talk to him because he had no way of understanding this. Bella was _my _daughter, not his, he couldn't possibly understand. My words were clipped as I said, "Phil, it's Charlie. Bella is missing. We are still looking for her, but I think it would be a good idea for you to book a flight for you and Renée to come out here. We think she might be—that she—" I couldn't do it. I couldn't hold it back anymore. The tears flowed freely as I finished, "There was a note and footprints to the cliff and we think she jumped." I was crying loudly now, all thoughts of upholding my masculinity as I spoke to the man who took my wife gone with the pain of my loss.

"My God," he whispered. "We'll be there as soon as we can." With that, he hung up the phone and I imagined him rocking Renée back and forth, telling her all the comforting words she needed to hear, soothing her in ways that I never could. I sank to the floor and placed my head in my hands, wondering if there was anyone left to comfort me.

_**Jasper's POV**_

We waited in silence for the others to arrive. Hours passed like days until, finally, I heard the sound of crunching gravel announce the arrival of their car. They all filed into the house through the garage door, all except one. The last I knew, the rest of the family had been staying together in New York; when Carlisle said that Edward wasn't there, I had assumed he just meant that he was momentarily out of the house. I wondered what was keeping him and hoped that Carlisle had been able to convince him to come. He needed to be here because the more I thought about it, the more I knew that Alice was right; he couldn't be alone when he was told this. He needed the support of his family now. He needed us to hold him together, because this news would shatter him.

"Where's Edward?" Alice asked before I had the chance.

"He's coming," Carlisle replied, noticing Alice's expression for the first time. "What's going on, Alice? What's wrong?" Everyone was now seated around the large dining room table, waiting for an explanation. Thanks to my gift, I knew, for the most part, how everyone was feeling at that moment. Carlisle was confused, and, after seeing Alice, worried. Esme, wonderful mother that she was, radiated compassion and understanding for our return, regardless of the reason. But she, too, was worried. Emmett was slightly anxious, probably the result of Rosalie's anger. And Alice, my dear Alice, was still in pain.

"He's going to need us now," she said quietly, looking at each of us, her eyes wide. She looked so young at that moment, so innocent. I hated that she had to see what she had seen. I hated that she had been given the responsibility of giving our family this ill news. "He's going to need us more than any of us ever needed anyone." The confusion in the room only grew stronger as Alice sat in silence. I heard her take a deep breath, such a human gesture, such a _Bella _gesture, and then she began to tell us all of her vision. "I came back because of Bella. I'm sure all of you have already figured that out—" Before she could continue, Rose cut her off.

"Oh, of course. As if that _human_ hasn't already disrupted our lives enough, now we have to drop everything and run back here for her. I can't believe—"

"Shut up, Rosalie," I stated, my voice only hinting at the anger I felt. I struggled to suppress my emotions so that no one else would be affected by them and nodded for Alice to continue. But so help me, if Rose said anything to upset my wife I was going to forget that she was a lady, and my sister, and beat the snot out of her.

"Yesterday I was swimming on the island when I had a vision. I saw Bella. She was standing on the ledge of one of the cliffs." I heard Esme's breath catch and her eyes widened in alarm. "She closed her eyes, opened her arms and just—fell. I could see her expression so clearly as she was falling, she was completely content, not a hint of fear. And then, all of a sudden, it changed. She looked terrified. I saw her grab her stomach and then she just disappeared. I never saw her hit the water—the vision just ended abruptly." She paused, composing herself, and then continued, "I wasn't sure what had happened. I thought maybe someone saved her, that maybe she was unconscious or something and that's why I couldn't see her, why I never saw her in the water. The entire trip back here, I was searching for anything, any clue in my visions as to what may have happened. But I still saw nothing. And then, out of nowhere, I had a vision of Charlie. He was talking on the phone, and he was crying. And I heard him say it. I heard him say that she was dead. Bella's dead." The room was full of shocked expressions and emotions. Not one of us, including myself, wanted what she had said to be true.

I don't know how—perhaps we were all too entangled in the distressing story that Alice had told—but none of us heard him approach until he spoke with quiet fury. "What did you just say?"

_**Charlie's POV**_

I must have been the devil incarnate in a past life. I just couldn't see any other explanation: only someone inherently evil deserved this level of suffering. Apparently it was not enough that my daughter was dead. It was not enough that I was now standing in the middle of a cemetery burying an empty casket because her body was never found in the depths of the ocean beneath the cliffs. It was not enough that I was now more alone than I had ever before felt in my entire life. No, whoever ruled fate decided I needed to suffer _more_. That is why, as I was getting dressed in a black suit that I hadn't worn since ten years ago when my mother passed away, I received another painfully enlightening phone call.

"Hello, Chief Swan?" the woman's voice stated. I didn't recognize the caller then, but I would never forget her for the rest of my days. I knew it had to be someone calling about the missing persons flyers that had been posted around Forks and Port Angeles the night that Bella disappeared because no one addressed me as Chief Swan outside of the station's phone unless they were responding to the posters.

"Speaking," I replied flatly. I had limited patience when it came to these callers because for the past four days I had received countless phone calls reporting that people had seen my daughter at the bus station or the super market or walking down the street and I was tired of the lies. I was tired of Renée believing every word and holding on to the hope that our daughter was still alive out there somewhere. I knew better. Life just doesn't work that way. Bella had taken herself from us and she was now at her final resting place somewhere at sea. I didn't need to see her body to know in my heart that she was dead. Each time a lead took us nowhere, I saw Renée crumble a little bit more and she didn't deserve that. That is why I decided to have the funeral in the first place. She deserved closure, she deserved to heal. And so did I. I refused to live the rest of my life filled with false hope.

"My name is Lydia Cooper. I work at the Rite Aid in Port Angeles and just yesterday I saw the poster of your daughter, Bella. I thought she looked familiar so I asked my boss to let me go through the surveillance tapes from the past few days and, sure enough, she was there." She paused, perhaps waiting for me to say something, but I didn't. Bella was not there. She was not anywhere. When she realized I wasn't going to speak, she continued, "The tape was from the afternoon of the 26th. Now, I know that's before she is said to have disappeared and I know what everyone is saying happened to her and that you're holding a funeral for her today and I'm not trying to call to tell you that your daughter is miraculously alive." Well, that was a first.

So this lady was calling to say that Bella, if it actually was Bella on the tapes, went to a store last Monday. I hadn't known that, but I failed to see the significance of the information. "I'm calling because I have a teenage daughter myself and, if it were me, I would want to know." She paused again and I was left to ponder what this woman was talking about. What would she want to know? My daughter was dead; I didn't need to know anything else. But Mrs. Cooper kept right on talking. "Sir, I know the reports say that they haven't found your daughter's body, so there will be no way of verifying this information, but, well, what I'm trying to say is that your daughter, the day before she—uh—the day before she went missing, she came into the store and bought a pregnancy test."

_**Edward's POV**_

I was the world's biggest fool. I had never thought she would break her promise, but perhaps _that_ was the problem. Maybe I just hadn't thought at all. I hadn't thought about all of the near misses that Bella had experienced since the day we met. I hadn't thought about the fact that the only reason she was still alive was because I had been determined to save her from fate's evil scheme to destroy her. I hadn't thought that I would never see her again. Even as I told her that I would disappear from her life, I always assumed that one day I would be strong enough to stay in the shadows and check up on her, watch her live her life normally as it should be, love her from afar. I just hadn't thought. And who was paying now for my mistakes? Absolutely everyone who had loved her. My family. Her family. Me.

When I walked into the house five days ago, I was so focused on preparing myself to lay into Jasper and Alice for breaking their word that they wouldn't return to Forks that I had successfully shut out the thoughts of all of my family members. Then, as I approached them, I heard Alice say the words that destroyed my life. Bella was dead. At first, I didn't believe it. I couldn't bring myself to consider that my reason for living had ceased to exist. It was all just a horrible mistake, I had instantly thought. Bella was alive and well and I would find her and beg her for forgiveness and we could be together again; I could wrap myself up in the warmth of her love and forget that any of this had ever happened.

I ran from our home, racing through the trees along the familiar path that would lead me to Bella's window. As soon as I had reached the house, though, I knew that it was empty; the soothing music of her heartbeat and the steady breaths of her fragile body were not there to send away the despair that was steadily creeping into my veins. I climbed the tree as I had done so many nights before and propelled myself through her opened window.

Bella's smell was everywhere, swirling around me, comforting me and stifling my fears by its mere presence in my lungs as I breathed it in. It felt like a lifetime ago that she and I had been here, connecting our hearts and our bodies for the first and last time. I sat on her bed and ran my fingertips over her pillow, imagining her head resting there, her hair splayed across the purple fabric in glorious disarray, her eyes lighting up with a smile that she had given only to me. My thoughts continuously shifted as I pictured her a million different ways. I heard her voice and felt her love and I wondered how I had ever managed to walk away. Sitting here, missing her, my reasons for leaving seemed so insignificant, so cowardly and utterly _stupid_. I needed to tell her that, I needed her to know that I was wrong and that my life was only happy when she was in it. I needed her in order to feel whole.

A flash of light in my peripheral vision abruptly brought my attention to Bella's desk. It was her cell phone, pushed to the corner, left behind and, for some reason, I couldn't look away. Like a moth to a flame, I was being drawn toward it, toward the flash that would illuminate so much more than I was ready to see. I picked it up, wanting to know if it held any clues as to Bella's whereabouts, but as the screen displayed the multitude of missed calls from Charlie and my sister, the light shone brightly over the blank pages that lay in a neat stack on the far right corner of the desk. The phone slipped from my fingertips and crashed to the floor. I quickly turned on the desk lamp and stared at the pages, praying that I was mistaken. To the naked human eye, the pages were bare, but as my own advanced vision searched the paper, all of my hopes vanished and I couldn't think or move or breathe. My eyes were glued to the slight indentations that her pen had left when she wrote on the previous page, the page where she had offered her apologies and scripted her goodbyes to her father. The plain white page was also filled with salty stains from where her tears had soaked through, and I imagined her sitting at the desk as she wrote the note, crying and sniffling and _hurting _because of me and my stupidity.

I placed my palm to the paper and squeezed, crumpling the cruel words in my clenched fist, though nothing could prevent them from being emblazoned across my memory. I stared into space; I was shocked and I didn't know what to do. Her goodbyes repeated in a loop in my head and I couldn't turn them off until, finally, it sank in. My Bella was gone. Forever. I instantly felt pain and anger and frustration and sadness and guilt and confusion and my knees buckled under the heavy weight of my emotional onslaught. My body overflowed with feeling and when I couldn't hold it in any longer, I cried out into the emptiness of her room, a strangled sound of a tortured, dying animal. Almost immediately, Alice was there, wrapping me in her embrace and telling me it would be alright. I jumped away from her and growled, my eyes crazed and my heart wild with fury at her words because it would most certainly _not _be alright. Nothing could ever be right again.

"Edward," she said softly, holding her arms outstretched in a stance of truce, "I know this is hard. I loved her, too, and I know what you are feeling and—"

I laughed at her words, my nostrils flaring in angry pain as I spat out, "No, you don't know, Alice. Jasper. Isn't. Dead. And until he is you will never have even the slightest fucking clue how I feel."

She crossed her arms and looked me in the eye, replying furiously, "You're right, Edward, Jasper isn't dead. He's killing himself with guilt, but he's not dead. And, obviously, _you_ are the only one who lost Bella. Carlisle and Esme didn't lose the daughter you brought into their lives, the child that finally completed our family. I didn't lose my sister. I didn't lose my best friend. As usual, it's only _you_ that is in pain, right?" My guilt came gushing to the surface; I knew I had hurt Alice with my words, and I wanted to apologize. But she wasn't done and she approached me and shoved me backward as she made her points. "Well, let me tell you something, Edward. I _did_ love her. I never _wanted _to leave her. _You_ did, and the fact that I listened to you and left her behind is something I will regret for as long as I exist. And I never _wanted _to have a front-seat view of her death, to feel the helplessness that went along with watching her literally fall apart until she made the ultimate decision to end her suffering. I never _wanted _the pain that came with the responsibility of relaying the news to our family that she was gone or the guilt that I can't escape because I didn't see her decision fast enough to prevent it. You want to talk about understanding, Edward, you want to compare and have a battle of who is hurting more, then maybe it's time you saw what I saw. Maybe it's time you grew up and realized that everything in this world isn't about _you_."

She opened her mind then and I saw everything. I saw Bella's pain in all its glory, I saw the way the light seemed to have left her soul, and then there she was, standing on the ledge. It was just a movie playing behind my eyelids, but I pleaded with her to back away as if it would somehow make a difference. I watched in my mind as she spread her arms and peacefully fell. But then something changed, something _happened_ and her face contorted in fear as she neared closer and closer to the water. She had changed her mind, I was sure of it, but it was too late. In the blink of an eye, there was nothing, darkness. She had disappeared and I couldn't accept that. Alice should have seen her hit the water; she should have seen her struggling to live. I didn't want to watch that but I could never be satisfied with such an end as I had seen. Bella deserved better. She deserved to be saved from herself. She deserved to _live_.

Before I knew what I was doing I leapt from the window and started running. I heard Alice chasing after me, but I was faster, and I didn't plan on stopping. The trees passed by in a blur and I smelled their scent as soon as I crossed the line. I knew this was wrong, that I was breaking the rules, that I was putting myself and my family in danger, but both my head and my heart were too messed up for me to care. I heard Alice calling for me to stop, to think about what I was doing, but I didn't listen. I just continued to run until I could hear the ocean.

I stopped moving when the trees ended; I stared at the cliffs and listened to the waters below. I inhaled deeply and I couldn't deny that she had been here. Her scent was faint, nearly indistinguishable because of the wind and the weather, but it was there. I approached the edge and looked below to the dark liquid and the scattered jagged rocks as I heard Alice's cautious approach.

"Edward, what the hell are you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed? We don't belong here," she whispered, as if whispers could save us from detection on Quileute lands.

I looked at Alice, her eyes darting around in every direction, searching for the wolves, but I didn't answer her question, or make any moves to leave. Instead, I quietly asked a question that was burning in my mind. "Alice did they—was she—" I blew out a breath and looked away. "Did they find her body?"

She walked toward me and laid her hand on my shoulder, offering me comfort despite the angry words we had exchanged in Bella's bedroom, despite the fact that I truly didn't deserve it. But that was just Alice; she was kind and giving and loyal. She put everyone else first. Perhaps that was why she and Bella got along so well from the start—they were so much like each other in some ways. Alice turned me to face her and forced me to look at her, to not only hear the truth of her thoughts and her words, but also to see it in her eyes. "No, they didn't. Charlie has divers looking everywhere he thinks the current might have carried her because her body isn't at the base of the cliff, but, so far, they haven't found anything." Her answer gave me hope, and she must have seen as much because she said, "Edward, she's gone. They may not have found her body yet, and right now it looks as if maybe they never will, but she isn't coming back. I wish I could tell you that there is reason to hope, but I can't lie to you. I could always see her in my visions before; her future came to me so easily since the day she moved here. But after I saw her jump, I have been tirelessly searching for her and she isn't there. It's just emptiness, Edward. I know you don't want to believe it—none of us do—but her future simply doesn't exist anymore."

I nodded my head once in feigned-acceptance of her words and looked at my feet. I wanted to cry, but monsters didn't have the capacity to shed tears. Perhaps creatures like us weren't meant to feel this way, to feel vulnerable and _human_, but I did. I wanted to scream, because I was angry and guilt-ridden and I needed so desperately to see her and ask her why. Why she hadn't seen through the lies to the truth that was so obvious to me—that I loved her and just wanted her to be safe. Why she felt as though she had nothing left to fight for. And why—and for some reason this question deeply plagued me—why had she changed her mind only seconds too late? What had made her want to live when her actions had virtually guaranteed her death? I wished I knew and I wished that I could somehow reverse the hands of time so that I could fix her, save her. But I couldn't, not this time. Bella had needed me and I had failed her.

The sound of rustling of leaves broke through my thoughts and I knew we needed to leave this place. I wanted to stay, to search for Bella in the cold waves beneath us until the pain numbed within my soul, but Alice grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight before quietly leading me back into the forest. We were in danger, and the way she held my palm let me know that she wasn't leaving without me. I may have welcomed my battle with the wolves, my own demise, even, but I had to overlook my desires now and protect my sister. I would allow no one else to perish because of my selfishness. Alice never let me go as we slowly walked amidst the trees, nor did she say another word or open her thoughts to me. She was lost to her own demons just as I was lost to mine, and somehow we both knew that we needed to grieve in silence, together.

When I re-entered the house, Esme immediately wrapped me in her arms and held me gently. She whispered that she was sorry and that she loved me, but my face was blank and my arms were limp as she, and the rest of the family, offered their condolences. I heard them, and I felt their touches and their emotions, but nothing registered except the darkness that had taken over me, the darkness and the meaninglessness that I knew would be my life from that day forward. Bella had been the one to discover the light and the goodness hidden within my heart, and her unchangeable absence had quickly taken them away.

I slowly walked up the stairs to my old room. I closed and locked the door and was instantly assaulted by the scent of Bella. It was painful, but I needed to smell it, I needed to be connected to her in some way. There was a blanket that she always used to snuggle under laying on my sofa, and I wrapped it around myself and took deep breaths. I curled up on the cold black leather and drew my knees to my chest before I finally let myself go. I trembled and I sobbed and I ached as I descended into the hell that I had created.

I spent the next few days sitting in my room and allowing the memories of her to wash over me. It was my self-inflicted punishment. It would have been too easy to block out everything, to become numb and try to forget that the past ten months had ever happened. I didn't deserve to get off easy. I deserved to suffer. I would remember her. I would think about everything I had lost. All of the happy times we had shared were tainted with the knowledge that she would never be anything more than a memory now. Every thought I had of her was so vivid, it was hard for me to believe that it wasn't actually happening. Every memory was a waking dream that ended in the nightmare of reality. I closed my eyes and imagined what it was like to kiss her, to run my fingertips along her fiery skin. I could almost feel her. Almost. But almost didn't count.

In all of my days, I had never felt so alone. My family made their presence known, always knocking on my door and asking me if I wanted to talk, but I just asked them to go away. I was the odd man out again. I was the one who had no one to call my own. And now, more than ever, I couldn't stand the sight of my family members together. I couldn't stand that their loves, their mates, were alive and well. I didn't have any room within myself to add jealousy to my myriad of emotions, so I just distanced myself. After my fourth day spent in exile, though, I felt as though I was losing my mind. It was becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish between the memories and the dreams of what could have been. Everything was starting to blend together into a fairy tale that became warped and twisted whenever a knock would sound on my door and I would remember that she was gone.

I exited my room and joined my family in the living area, all of us sitting together but lost in our own thoughts. Esme appeared in front of me after a while and knelt down to look in my eyes. _Edward, sweetheart_ she said in her mind, brushing my hair from my face, _they are holding Bella's funeral today. If you want to go, we will all be there to support you. _I drew in a deep breath at that news and shook my head. I wasn't strong enough to mourn with her family and friends; I couldn't see the empty casket and expect to hold onto my last shred of rational thought. But, mostly, I was simply too much of a coward to face Charlie in light of what I had taken from him. Whether or not I was physically indestructible, I knew that emotionally I would be ripped apart if I were to get inside the mind of the person whose daughter had ended her life because of me.

I knew that I couldn't go to the cemetery, but I could also sense that I shouldn't stay here. Everyone's thoughts were guarded, and I could tell that it was a struggle for each of them to be around me. My entire family, in some measurement, thought I was to blame for this, even if they wouldn't admit it. I was inclined to agree with them, but it didn't make Jasper's emotional transmissions or the occasional leaked thought easy to bear. So I left, just stood up and walked out without a word. Thankfully, no one followed me.

I wandered aimlessly through the woods, until I realized that I hadn't been wandering at all. My subconscious had a purpose; it had led me directly to our meadow, the place that had been the setting for so many of my treasured private moments with Bella. I relived them all as the occasional patch of sunlight drifted across the sky and finally faded into night. And then, because her memory, her presence, was so strong there, I started to talk to her. I sat in the dewy grass and told her of all the ways in which she had brought me to life, the ways in which she had changed me, made me a better person, made me feel more of a man than a beast. I told her how much I had missed her over the past weeks, and the mistakes I had made, and about the future I wished we could have had. I talked to her for hours upon hours, I hummed her lullaby that, for once, soothed me instead of her, and then, as the sun began to set once again, I stood in the darkness, knowing that I was free to visit the place where her body would have rested if they had managed to find it.

Maybe it would have been easier on me if they had. Then I could have seen with my own eyes that she was gone. I could have looked at her pallid skin and known that I would never again see the scarlet blush that had a near-permanent residence on her cheeks. The silence that replaced the beating of her heart would have convinced the sliver of hope that existed somewhere deep within me that all hope was lost. Perhaps, then, I would have been able to let her go. I shook my head as that thought passed through my mind because I knew I could never do that. I would carry her with me wherever I went, tethered to my heart and my soul. We had always been tied together, our fates twisted and tangled into beautiful chaos; I just hadn't realized it until it was too late.

I ran in the direction of the cemetery knowing that this would be my last goodbye to her, to this town. I wasn't sure where I planned to go, but I knew I needed to leave this place behind for good. I would force myself to see where the consequences of my mistakes would forever be etched in stone, and then I would go and continue on with the miserable journey of my life. If I had thought that my death might bring me closer to Bella, that we would be able to meet again in the afterlife, I would have considered travelling to Volterra; I would have begged the Volturi to end my life. But I knew that, even in death, Bella and I would be different. She was an angel and I was a demon and I had thrown away our only chance to be together, despite our differences. I had tossed it aside as if it didn't matter and now I would have to live with that because my family did not deserve another loss. I had to act selflessly now, for them.

I passed through the gates of the cemetery, and then started walking along the path that Bella's mourners had left in the mud. When I reached the granite marker, guilt and despair flooded through me at an emotional magnitude that I wasn't aware I possessed. I dropped to my knees and stared at the cold, gray structure as the heavens cried and the rain poured down around me. I ran my stone fingers across the engravings as I read her name and the range of dates that she had lived in this world. Below that was a simple phrase "Our beloved daughter, you left us too soon. We will always miss you".

If I could have cried, my tears would have outnumbered the raindrops. If I could have died, my guilt would have caused my life to end at that very second. But I could not escape the destruction that I had caused; I would live for an eternity without the woman that I loved. And I would live forever knowing that I was the reason she had died. I hung my head and became a slave to my grief, hoping that somewhere, somehow, she would hear my thoughts and know that I was sorry.

I may have knelt there for minutes, or perhaps it was hours, but at some point in time, I realized that I was not alone. I heard his mind approaching before his footsteps sounded in the mud and grass behind me. His thoughts were incoherent, racing wildly from one to the next so that it was difficult for me to decipher exactly what he was thinking. There were a few things about his mind that I could tell, however, a few things that I expected and understood. The first was the misery that enveloped his very existence. His sadness and his pain were present in every idea. And nearly as potent were the anger and the blame. He didn't have to think my name for me to know that the thoughts that were dripping with the latter two emotions were reserved exclusively for me.

I didn't turn to face him or even acknowledge his approach. There was nothing I could do to bring her back and I doubted he would want to hear any words that exited my lips. As far as he was concerned, I was the reason Bella was dead; I had tricked her into thinking that I had loved her and then left her when she needed me most. Was that what she had thought before she died? Did she truly believe that I had never loved her at all? I saw the images that crossed his mind, his last memories of her more potent and crushing than any vision Alice had transmitted. I was filled with self-loathing, because I realized that Bella hadn't died only days ago. I had killed her the moment I walked away from her in the forest. I had killed her the moment I started lying. I wanted to face Charlie then; I wanted to make him see that it had never been my intention to hurt Bella, that I had only wanted to protect her. But what could I say that would make him understand? What words could I possibly use to explain all of this, to counteract his train of thought that kept repeating _you killed my little girl_?

I could sense him standing directly behind me, but I resigned myself to the fact that I could not fix this with apologies or explanations, so I did not turn around. I heard the thought cross his mind; I heard his conscience argue and lose. Then I heard the click and felt the hard metal as he raised his arm and pressed his gun to the back of my head. I knew that it wouldn't kill me, but I momentarily wished that it would. I longed for the bullet to destroy my body like I had destroyed Bella's mind. I rested my palm against her gravestone, hung my head and waited patiently for Charlie to act. I remained as still as a statue, listening to his thoughts, his accusations, feeling his pain as well as my own. I waited as his mind cursed at me for killing her, for killing both of them.

I didn't understand that last thought until an image flitted across his imagination before it was stored in his mind's realm of all things painful and off limits. The image was of Bella, smiling and happy as she rocked in her grandmother's chair and looked down lovingly at a bundle she held in her arms. It only took me a moment to realize that it was a baby, a rosy-cheeked infant with Bella's chocolate eyes and my unruly copper hair. It only took me two moments to realize that Charlie was painfully misinformed and suffering through another loss that was entirely impossible and unnecessary.

I should have dispelled his misconceptions immediately, brought an end to his outlandish notions, but after I had seen that image, the only thought my brain could produce was the question of why he was picturing Bella with a child, with _our _child. I _had _to find out, to get answers, because Charlie had just broken down a wall that I had carefully constructed the moment I started my relationship with Bella. Back then, I knew that we would never be able to start our own little family, that I was incapable of giving her a child, and I had decided to accept that as long as she could. I had locked away my innermost human desires and thrown away the key, but Charlie had somehow found it and burst the dam of wants that could never be. I had new dreams to contemplate now. I had new fantasies to create and lose all at the same time. And I needed to know _why_.

My heavy thoughts were intruded upon in the next moment when three things happened simultaneously. I heard her scream, I turned toward the sound and Charlie pulled the trigger.


	8. HIDE AND SEEK

**In the last chapter, the town of Forks was dealt the blow of Bella's "death". Charlie is taking it hard, the Cullens are taking it hard, Edward is taking it hard. In the end, Edward finds himself at Bella's gravesite, full of sadness, when Charlie approaches. Edward hears Charlie's grieving thoughts and finds that Charlie is under the impression that Edward is to blame for two deaths: Bella's and her baby's. But he can't really ask about that because Charlie kinda sorta has a gun pointed to the back of his head. A scream is heard and Charlie pulls the trigger. Dun dun dun…This is a continuation of that. Happy reading, darlings :)**

**8 ~ Hide and Seek**

"**Hide and seek…**

**Blood and tears**

**They were here first**

**Mmmm whatcha say,**

**Mmmm that you only meant well?**

**Well of course you did**

**Mmmm whatcha say,**

**Mmmm that it's all for the best?**

**Of course it is**

**Mmmm whatcha say,**

**Mmmm that it's just what we need?**

**You decided this…**

**Speak no feeling no I don't believe you**

**You don't care a bit,**

**You don't care a bit"**

_**Hide and Seek **_**by Imogen Heap**

**Sunday, October 2**

_**Bella's POV**_

"Miss Masen, a fed-ex package just arrived for you," I heard Ekram say when I groggily answered my room's ancient telephone. I sat up, instantly alert and said thank you to the Sunshine Motel's overly-helpful desk clerk before I hung up the receiver and pulled on my sweatpants. I exited my room quickly and walked to the front office to retrieve the key to my new life.

It had been five days since I had sent in the required information for my new ID and I had been anxiously waiting for the small card ever since I had left the post office. I had been forced to resort to sending the request via snail mail because I didn't have the technology at my fingertips to scan my picture and send an electronic request, and the wait had seemed to last forever, leaving my ample time to think and reflect and _worry_. I refused to allow myself to worry about whether or not the card would look valid, though, because I had enough other things to be anxious about without panicking that I would be trapped in Seattle without a new identity.

At the top of my list of things to be concerned about was my baby. I still hadn't felt any movement since my jump off of the cliffs and I could not help but be concerned that something was terribly wrong. In a perfect world, I would be running to the nearest hospital for an ultrasound that would calm my fears. I would be able to see an image of my child, to know that he was alright and that he was growing and his heart was beating and that I had a reason to feel hope. And in that same perfect world, I would not be waiting alone. I would be with the Edward that loved me; he would hold my hand and brush his fingers against my cheek and reassure me when I was scared that everything was going to be alright. He would wrap me and our baby in his arms and I would feel what I hadn't felt in such a long time: _safe._

But this was my life; ergo it was the antithesis of perfect. I could not travel to the nearest medical center because there weren't a whole lot of doctors around that would know how to handle a vampire-human hybrid. In fact, I could think of only one that might have a clue of what to do, and, even if I had wanted to find him, Carlisle's location was an unknown at the moment. About the only thing I could do was sit around doing nothing but watching the hours pass, alone and impatient, praying that everything would be okay. Or, that was what I did when I wasn't sleeping or throwing up, both of which I had noticed I was doing a lot of lately. I wasn't sure if that was due to the pregnancy or my life's constant level of stress, but I had taken to sleeping for spans of fifteen hours at a time and I couldn't keep _anything _in my stomach. I knew both myself and the baby needed nourishment, but I just didn't know how to go about getting it.

Then, as if the well-being of my child wasn't enough to worry about, I also had to be concerned with the trip that I was about to embark upon. I knew, generally, where I was going, but that was about it. There were so many dangerous what if situations that could occur once I reached Alaska that I spent the majority of my first day hiding out in my motel room thinking about what I would do if I couldn't find them or if they didn't want me to stay or if they would not offer me help or they didn't have answers. After that day of torturous thoughts, I knew I needed a distraction, so I went to a small bookstore that I had noticed on the drive from the post office to the motel and purchased the famed _What to Expect When You're Expecting_.

Obviously, my situation was far from typical, but I figured that my child was at least partially human so I might be able to learn something useful from reading the book. And at least then, if this Denali adventure was a bust, I wouldn't be completely clueless about having a baby. The way I had it figured, my child had to inherit something from me, right? So _some_ part of the book had to be relevant to my situation. Plus, if nothing else, reading the book had given me something to do to pass my waking hours.

I opened the door to the office and was greeted by Ekram, who was sweet and flirtatious, as usual. I truly didn't understand why I had merited so much of his attention since every time I looked in the mirror I thought I looked like death warmed over. Perhaps he was just being nice, but, whatever the reason, I found his blatant interest highly annoying. I decided to suck it up, though, and plaster on a smile so I could quickly get my package because if everything went according to plan, I would be leaving the motel and getting on a plane within the next few hours and Ekram would be nothing but a distant memory.

As soon as he handed me the plain brown envelope, I ripped it open and pulled out the tiny plastic rectangle. I looked it over secretively, aware that I was under the careful scrutiny of Ekram's fascinated eyes. It looked perfect. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl that stared back at me from the card's image certainly did not remind me of the mousy-brown Isabella Swan I had been. The Illinois license looked completely legitimate and I felt a sense of relief that had been long overdue.

I told Ekram that I would be checking out in about half an hour and asked him to call a taxi for around that time. I was tired of this motel and I welcomed the thought of spending my remaining hours in Seattle watching the planes take off at the airport. Ekram's happy expression deflated and he grudgingly agreed to my requests.

I returned to my room and checked the notebook I had brought from Forks where I had written the week's flight times from Seattle to Fairbanks. I glanced at the clock and decided that I had plenty of time to make the 3:15 flight. I packed up my limited belongings and paid cash for my stay just in time to meet my taxi in front of the motel.

I told the driver to take me to Seattle International and waited in silence to arrive at the airport. I noticed as we drove that my right hand had taken up a nearly permanent resting place on my stomach and I wondered if that was due to a subconscious desire to protect my child or the impractical hope that the baby would sense my hand close by and give me another nudge to let me know he was okay. Whatever the reason, my palm stayed there until we arrived at the main doors to the airport.

I thanked the driver and handed him my fare, then carefully made my way through the revolving doors that were the equivalent of a death trap for the clumsy girl I could not leave behind with an identity change. I managed to make it safely through the doors and as I followed the signs to the desk for Alaska Airlines, I realized in an instant just how easily all of my careful planning could be ruined when I glanced at one of the check-in kiosks for Delta airlines and saw my mother.

_**Charlie's POV**_

I guessed God could hear me after all. For a while, I was certain my prayers were falling on deaf ears. The days immediately following Bella's death, I had repeatedly asked to change the past, to be given a second chance, to have just one more opportunity to see my daughter alive and well. Then, when it became obvious that nothing I said or did and no amount of pleading to an unkind God would change what had happened, the anger set in and I began to ask for something completely different, something that went against everything I had ever believed in: the opportunity for vengeance.

My new prayers were that Edward Cullen would someday return to Forks. And when that day came, I vowed that he would pay for what he had done. He would pay for ruining my daughter's life. He would pay for the future that his own cold-blooded hands had ripped away from her. And he would pay for taking Bella and my grandchild away from me. I knew without a doubt that the results of the pregnancy test had been positive. I didn't know how I knew, but I had never been more certain of something in my life.

It was truly amazing, the amount of power that knowledge had. How a word or a sentence could instantly tear apart your life. Before Bella's funeral, I had been grieving for my daughter but I knew that I would eventually heal. I would always miss her, but I would be strong enough to move forward with my life. And then I had received the phone call that gave me the cruel knowledge of just how much beyond my daughter that I had lost, about the things that, up until that moment, I hadn't even known that I had wanted. And that knowledge made moving forward nearly impossible.

In one painful instant, I saw into the future that I should have had: watching Bella graduate and go to college, walking her down the aisle on her wedding day in a flowing white dress and, someday, waiting nervously at the hospital to meet my grandchildren. I could see Bella sitting in my mother's chair, rocking her babies the way Renée had done with her. It was a beautiful image, my daughter smiling at her own child with a happiness that only a parent could understand. It was exactly the way things should have been, until my imagination was consumed with my grandchild and, for some reason, my brain would insert a cruel blow from reality. I would see Bella's eyes and _his _hair, or Bella's nose and _his _eyes. The child was always a part of _him _and it brought the beauty of the fantasy image into the harsh light of reality. That child would never exist because of Edward Cullen.

Bella was lost when he left her, and it wasn't until I received the phone call that I understood why. She was scared and confused and hurt and she dealt with the situation the only way she knew how. She ran away from it; she escaped it. And it was entirely _his _fault. I prayed with all of my might that he would come back, that he would be man enough to face the consequences of what he had done. Then, I forced my imagination away from thoughts of what would never be and started planning what I would do when I saw him again.

Somehow, thinking about what I would say and do when he returned managed to make the grief I felt more bearable. It gave my life a purpose when I thought all meaning had been lost. I had desperately wanted to be given the chance to settle this, once and for all, and suddenly, here it was.

To be honest, I was absolutely shocked when I arrived at the cemetery and saw him kneeling in front of her grave. The bouquet of flowers I had been holding fell to the ground and my legs automatically walked in his direction. Suddenly, all of my planned words and actions meant nothing. I guessed that I had always thought my newest prayers would go unanswered, as well, and I wasn't truly prepared to deal with him. My thoughts were a jumbled mess of accusations and memories and all I could really do was feel. I felt a resurgence of the grief that I had been suppressing since I received the phone call yesterday, but more than that, I felt an uncontrollable anger.

He was here, living and breathing and she was not. He had probably spent the weeks he was absent from Forks enjoying his life while she had been barely trying to put the pieces of hers back together. I tried hard to push the images away, but they were too powerful for me to stop. I saw her vacant eyes, her expressionless face, her deteriorating body. I wished he could have seen what I had seen so he would know just how much he had hurt her. I wondered if he would even care. I wondered, too, if he had known about the baby, if she had told him of the possibility and he had walked out, too cowardly to face the consequences. What kind of man was he, to leave when she needed him most?

I reached for my gun and pulled it from its holster. For one minute, and only one minute, my conscience argued against my actions, trying to tell me that it was not me who should be delivering this type of justice. I was supposed to uphold the law, not break it. But I chose not to listen to my better judgment. As far as I was concerned, the laws I upheld only applied to men, and I realized then that Edward Cullen was no man. He was a heartless monster, a destroyer of life, and it was only right that he now lost his own.

I raised the gun and pressed it against the back of his head. He didn't move a single muscle as the cool metal came into contact with his skin. It almost seemed as if he welcomed his fate, and that only made it easier for me to carry out my decision. I fervently hoped he descended to the deepest pits of hell. He deserved worse than that for killing her, for killing them both.

I once again imagined her in the rocking chair, soothing her bundled child, but as my tears began to fall, I banished the image to the furthest recesses of my mind. That image would never be a reality, and in a few seconds, neither would Edward Cullen. My finger was itching to pull the trigger and when I saw him turn his head at an almost inhuman speed and I heard her voice yelling to us, I gave in to my desires and let my finger pull.

_**Bella's POV**_

My breathing stopped as my eyes stared at my mother. I knew that I should stop looking at her and try to get as far away as possible to prevent my life from becoming even more disastrous than it already was, but I couldn't seem to turn away. She looked so tired, as if she hadn't slept in days. Perhaps she hadn't. I knew it was because of me, because I had convinced the world that I was dead. _It was better this way_, I thought to myself as I forced my feet to move away from my mother and toward the flight desks. Before I could make it a safe distance away, however, the tears for everything and everyone I was leaving behind started to fall. I quickly crossed in front of all the hurried travelers as my tears turned into sobs and I entered the restroom. I went inside the nearest stall and allowed my sorrow to envelope me.

Why did life have to be so complicated? What I wanted most right now—well, no, perhaps it wasn't what I wanted most because that would involve going back in time and being with Edward—but what was pretty high up there on the list of things I wanted was to go back out there and apologize to my mother for hurting her and ask her to help me. I wanted to tell her about Edward and the baby. I wanted her to wrap me in her arms when I told her that I was scared out of my mind and rock me back and forth like she used to when I was still too young to take on the adult role in our relationship. Mostly, I wanted to have someone to talk to, someone to turn to. She may not have been the most down-to-earth mother, but she was still a parent. She had experience with babies and toddlers and the kids from school. She would know what to do.

What did I know about being a mother, anyway? Absolutely nothing. I was eighteen years old and I had no experience with babies or young children. I had never changed a diaper or dealt with a tantrum. How exactly was I going to raise a child on my own? And even if I could manage to handle a normal child, a human child, what was I going to do if the baby came out cold and hard and trying to bite people? It's not like there were classes called "How to Raise Your Half Human 101". What the hell had I been thinking when I just left everything and everyone behind? Was I out of my mind?

I should go out there now. She loved me. She would forgive me for deceiving her. She would help me. Maybe I could go back and explain things and attempt to have a normal life. Maybe, just maybe, this would work out okay. I grabbed some toilet paper and attempted to blot away my tears before I went out to talk to someone I thought I had left behind forever. I glanced at my appearance in the mirror before I exited the bathroom and wondered briefly if she would even recognize me. _I_ barely recognized me.

I inhaled deeply and then took one step in the direction of the restroom door before I felt it. My right hand was on my stomach in an instant, waiting. And there it was again, that nudge. I could not help the smile that formed on my lips. He was okay. My baby was okay! Relief washed over me. I scanned the bathroom for any other occupants and when I realized that it was safely empty I lifted my shirt and looked at my swollen stomach in the mirror. It had grown considerably since just days ago. I heard the door swing open and quickly pulled my shirt back down over my bump, feeling nervous that whoever had entered the room had seen my stomach and would somehow just _know _that my child was different. The oversized sweatshirt worked wonders to hide the truth from the outside world, but at the rate it was growing, I knew it wouldn't be long before the baby was born and I wouldn't be able to hide any longer. At the most, I would have a month or two to prepare.

The woman who entered the bathroom as I was exiting and thinking of what I would say to my mother brought the part of reality that I had temporarily forgotten to the forefront of my thoughts and I stopped dead in my tracks. Her long, wavy red hair was very much like the flowing locks of Victoria. As in, Victoria, the crazed vampire who wanted to kill me and, possibly, everyone I cared about. I was being foolish just now, thinking that there was a way for me to go back to the way things were. I could never return to my old life. It was not safe for anyone because I truly _was_ a magnet for trouble, just as Edward once said; only this time, I was bringing the trouble to everyone around me instead of just myself. And since he wasn't here to be the hero, I would have to deal with my problems and be my own heroine. Moments ago, I had come dangerously close to giving in to my fears and loneliness and possibly putting the lives of everyone I loved at risk, including my child. I had to be stronger than that. I _was _stronger than that. I could not allow it to happen again.

I walked with a renewed determination to the Alaska Airlines reservation desk and did my best to appear confident as I bought my ticket, thankful that the woman behind the counter did not have the ability to detect my heart rate, which was through the roof with worry. I handed her my ID, the moment of truth, and she merely glanced at the image, then at me, and slid the card back across the counter. _Well that was easy_ I thought, thankful that booking a flight was not as difficult as I had imagined it would be. The woman clicked away at her keyboard for a few moments, then handed me the newly-printed boarding pass and gave me instructions on how to reach the terminal.

I passed through the designated security section quickly and then sat down in the closest empty seat once I reached my terminal. I watched out the window as the planes carefully maneuvered their ways into the proper position for loading passengers and was thankful when, after only forty minutes of waiting, the call for passengers of my flight came and I quickly got in line behind the few other people that were traveling to the snowy wilderness. This was it, I thought as I boarded the plane and walked to my seat. I put my backpack in the overhead storage compartment and buckled myself in. The plane circled and slowly moved toward the runway, and then lifted into the air smoothly. I looked out the window at the grey clouds, then glanced at what was left of my one-way ticket and said goodbye to Washington forever. There was no turning back now.

_**Edward's POV**_

"Charlie, no!" I heard her scream and I turned my head toward the fearful voice that had broken the complete concentration I had been giving to the mind of Bella's father. I felt the impact as I was knocked to the ground and the loud crash of thunder reverberated through the air, drowning out the crack of the gunshot. We were both crouched on our feet almost instantly, a basic survival instinct that we could not override for the sake of putting on a show for humans. Luckily, Charlie was none the wiser, because his eyes were staring skyward due to the confusion over the sound our stone bodies had made when we collided. I stood quickly, and she mimicked my movements, cautiously positioning herself between my body and his. Before I could think or talk or act, she firmly tried to reason with Charlie, but her words possessed a gentleness that spoke volumes about the sympathy she felt for the man that stood before us, the man that was now looking in my direction, crazed and crying, with his arm raised and his gun pointing, once again, in my direction.

"Put down the gun, Charlie." She took a cautious step toward Bella's father, her eyes and mind searching for a human way to disarm him. "You don't want to do this," she continued, and then, even more softly, she said, "It's not going to bring her back. And it's not going to make the pain go away. Please, Charlie, just put it down." His eyes flitted to her face, but quickly returned to mine, his hatred and determination intact. Her voice caught in her throat as she pleaded, "I already lost my sister when Bella died. Please, please, don't take my brother from me, too." Her words would have persuaded just about every other person in the universe, but they had no impact on a man who had lost so much. I could not blame him. I understood his pain so much more than he would ever comprehend.

"Move out of the way, Alice," Charlie said bitingly through his tears. "This has nothing to do with you. It is not your fault that they are dead. It's _his_." The last word was almost a hiss that he spat out in disgust. He was imagining me lying in the grass, bleeding and suffering as I died, but he would never get his wish. How could I tell him that my heart was no longer beating? How could I convince him that even if I had been human, losing Bella would have been enough to kill me without the aid of his weapons?

_What does he mean "they are dead"? Who else is dead? I didn't see anyone else dying! Edward, what is he talking about? _I didn't look at my sister or answer her thoughts because I was too consumed by my need for Charlie to explain what I had seen and heard in his thoughts before he had pulled the trigger. The image of Bella and our child kept flashing in my head and I needed to make it stop. I would have given anything to have that future with her, a future full of normal things like marriage and a home and a family. But who I was—no, not who, _what_ I was—made that type of life no more than a fantasy. And now, that dream was taunting me, filling my head with glimpses into the future that a perfect world would have given us. I wanted it to end, I wanted to stop feeling, I wanted to burn.

"He's right, Alice," I said, barely above a whisper, as I hung my head in shame and cast a sideways glance at her. "I deserve this. Worse than this."

_Edward Cullen!_ I heard her mind shout at me as she narrowed her eyes in my direction and practically seared holes through me when she saw a vision of the choices running amuck in my brain. _Stop thinking like that! This is _not _your fault. We _all_ made mistakes. We _all_ have regrets. We _all_ wish things could be different. But succumbing to your guilt and Charlie's anger isn't going to change anything. Running off and getting yourself killed isn't going to magically bring Bella back to life. The only thing that it will accomplish is bringing more heartbreak into our family and I'll be damned if I will let you do something so cruel and stupid. Did you even stop to think about how losing you would affect the rest of us?_

I knew she was right, of course, but at the moment, I could think of nothing other than extracting the information that I so desperately wanted from Charlie. I raised my head and looked directly at him, easily detecting the hatred that burned behind his tired eyes. I didn't know how to ask him other than to just be blunt, but then I might risk exposing the fact that I had read his mind. I deliberated for only a few seconds before I dismissed the risks, made a decision and let the words pour out of my mouth. "Charlie, I—you will never know how sorry I am for what has happened. I loved her. I loved her so much that I left to protect her. If I had know—"

His shouting cut me off before I could ask him any questions. "Loved her? You never loved her! You never even _deserved_ to love her! And you sure as hell didn't deserve all of the love she gave to you."

"I know that I never des—" Once again, I was unable to finish.

"I know what you did. Even if I hadn't gotten the call yesterday, I saw the bruises that your filthy hands put on my daughter," he said venomously. I swallowed the lump in my throat and momentarily closed my eyes, willing away the memory of Bella's discolored skin after we had made love. I did my best to block out Alice's inquiring voice as I once again met Charlie's eyes and prepared for whatever information he was about to indulge. "I would be willing to bet that Bella told you before you left. She trusted you to do the right thing, to help her deal with the situation, but instead, you showed your true colors and you left her. You were too chickenshit to deal with the consequences then, but you are damn well **going** to deal with them now." His gun hand that had gradually been falling as he spoke was once again raised and pointed directly at me. Alice simply was not tall enough to block his aim that was centered on my still heart.

_What is he talking about, Edward?_ Alice repeatedly questioned through her thoughts and I was determined to find out the answer to her question. "Charlie, I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about. Bella didn't tell me anything. I only left because I lov—"

He cut me off again, every word he uttered dripping with disgust. "Don't you _dare_ say it again! Just because Bella once believed your lies does not mean that I am naïve enough to do the same. And I'm talking about the fact that you left Bella when she was pregnant with your child."

I was sure the shock was clearly evident on my face as he said the words, and Alice quickly turned to face me as the questions fired in her mind. _What? That's _insane! _Why would he ever think that, I mean, you and Bella never even—_ I tensed ever so slightly as her thoughts drifted into my mind and I couldn't help but remember flittering images of Bella's perfect form lying in her bed on the last day I was ever going to see her. Alice missed nothing and her thoughts paused for a split second as the knowledge sank in. Then they continued angrily_. You did WHAT? When did this happen? _How _did this happen? How did I not see it? And how could you leave her after that? I just can't—you know what? Never mind, it doesn't matter. Right now we just need to make Charlie understand that what he's thinking is impossible._

I was still shocked and guilt-ridden as I said in a quiet voice, "That's impossible." I stared into Charlie's tortured eyes and I could see before I even searched his mind that he didn't believe me.

"Oh, it is? So are you going to stand there and tell me that you never slept with my daughter?"

I opted to disregard his ironic choice of words and answer his question honestly. At the very least, he deserved as much truth as I could give him. "No, what I meant was that Bella being pregnant with my child was impossible. I have a—" I searched my brain for the proper word, continuing with, "_condition _that destroyed my ability to have children. Believe me, sir, if Bella had been carrying my child I never, _ever _would have left them behind." I waited for him to grasp that information, praying that my raw honesty would be enough to convince him and bring an end to some measurement of his grief.

When he finally spoke, his words were cold and harsh, but still filled to the brim with pain. "Well, I guess that's the problem, Edward. I _don't _believe you, about any of it. Because the day before Bella killed herself, she bought a pregnancy test. And in the weeks leading up to her death, when she showed no other signs of illness and she hadn't eaten anything that could have made her sick, she started throwing up and sleeping the majority of the day away. Renée was the exact same way in the early months of her pregnancy with Bella." His absent tears restarted as his thoughts rewound to a happier time shortly before Bella was born. After a few moments, he looked me in the eye, slowly lowered his gun and whispered, "It doesn't matter anymore what you say because I know with ever single fiber of my being that you are nothing but a liar and a coward and a _murderer. _Bella may have been the one to take the leap off of that cliff, but she wasn't really to blame for her death because you had already killed her long before she ever went to La Push."

He paused for a moment, collecting himself and willing the tears to stop. "I wanted so badly to harm you for that, but I realize now that I was wrong in my method of torment. Killing you would be like saving you from facing the things that you have done. I can see the guilt in your eyes. I hope it only intensifies now that you know that you didn't just kill Bella. You also killed your own child." He carefully returned his gun to its holster and finished, "Think about _that_ for the rest of your pathetic life."

With that, he turned and walked back to the cruiser. I stood in the rain, dumbfounded and crippled by grief as I watched his vehicle until its red lights disappeared into the night. He was wrong, even if he wouldn't admit it. I _knew_ that, but still, my feelings of guilt increased exponentially with each passing second as if the words he had spoken were true. I continued to stare in the direction of the path his vehicle had travelled until I felt a hand touch my arm and my pained thoughts were interrupted.

Alice was looking at me, her eyes filled with compassion. After the last thoughts I had detected from her mind, I had expected her to silently berate me for what I had done, but I saw no anger in her expression, nor did I hear it in her thoughts. And then I realized that I heard nothing in her thoughts. She was blocking me from her mind, and that was never good.

"Alice, what is it? What do you know?" I tried to break through her blockade; I reached with all the might my gift possessed to enter her mind, but I could not. She looked away from me, grabbed my hand and pulled me into a run in the direction of our home. I knew it would be pointless to hassle her; she could be _almost _as stubborn as me sometimes. I also knew that whatever information she was hiding from me was going to destroy my life even more than it already had been. I didn't need to hear her words or her thoughts to reach that conclusion. It might as well have been written in flashing neon lights against the backdrop of pain in her ebony eyes.

_**Bella's POV**_

The plane ride seemed extremely short, but that was most likely due to the fact that I slept during almost the entire flight. I awoke to the ding of the "fasten seatbelts" sign that indicated we were about to make our descent into Alaska and I spent the minutes between our landing and the announcement that we could now exit the plane attempting to shake the fatigue from my mind and body. It seemed as if no matter how long I slept, I always awoke feeling exhausted. I hadn't experienced a lucid dream since the night before I found out I was pregnant; all I remembered of the happenings of my sleeping mind were swirls of red and purple. Even though nothing but the vibrant colors was ever clear when I awakened, I always felt on edge when the real world ended my slumber. It made me feel as though something bad was always about to happen, and I found myself acting overly anxious and paranoid.

I had planned to walk quickly through the airport and get directions to the train station that would take me from Fairbanks to Denali, but as I passed the numerous restaurants and my nose sucked in the delightful aroma of cooking food my grumbling stomach reminded me of how hungry I was. For the first time, I experienced a true craving. At that very instant, I wanted nothing more than a big, juicy cheeseburger. I searched my surroundings for an appropriate venue until my eyes fell upon the heavenly sight of the "Flame and Sizzle" burger restaurant. It was about fifty yards away, but I could swear I smelled the delectable odor of—no, it couldn't be that. As I drew nearer to the eatery, the fragrance became all the more powerful, and I was left to ponder which fact was more bewildering: that I was _not_ about to pass out from the familiar scent, that I was able to smell it at all from such a distance, or that I so badly wanted to taste it that my salivary glands were going haywire.

I sat down at the bar and watched as the cook flipped the huge burgers on the open grill. It was so close, I could almost taste it. It was repulsive and yet, it made absolute sense. Perhaps a portion of the traits my child received from his father had to do with his dietary needs. I guessed I would soon be able to tell because, so far, I hadn't been able to keep any type of "human" food down.

"What can I get for you, honey?" a kind-looking middle-aged woman with blonde hair and a big smile asked me. She had her pad and pen poised and ready for my order. I glanced down at the menu and, after skimming quickly over my options, I replied, "I'll have a ½ pound cheeseburger, as rare as you can make it. And a glass of water, please." I felt very uneasy placing my order, but the waitress didn't even flinch when I made my request, so I prayed that I hadn't appeared strange in any way. Right now, I very desperately wanted to just blend in.

I watched as my burger was placed on the grill, heated up, then flipped over to the other side. Within minutes, my plate was placed in front of me and I picked up the burger and did my best not to devour it as if I was a homeless person eating her first meal in weeks. It was delicious and I swallowed the last bite only ten minutes after I had first entered the restaurant. I paid the waitress, who was either a very good actress or truly wasn't shocked by my behavior, and exited the restaurant with a full and happy stomach.

I left the airport and quickly zipped up the heavy winter coat that I had purchased in Seattle as I waited for an available taxi. One finally arrived after about five minutes of waiting, though it felt like five hours to my frozen nose and ears. I asked to be taken to the train station and the driver began chattering aimlessly about the beauty of the mountains and the many types of wildlife that can be found in the Alaskan wilderness. I listened to his babbling only enough so that I could answer with appropriate "ohs" and "wows", but I was too busy thinking about the next leg of my trip to be concerned with what he was saying. In a few hours, I would be in Denali and I would be faced with the task of finding a coven of vampires that I had never before seen, and had only minimal information about. At the very least, it would be an interesting journey.

_**Edward's POV**_

"No," I whispered, unwilling to listen to what I knew, without a doubt, was the truth. I closed my eyes and sank into the chair in Carlisle's study, yearning for his mind's words to just disappear. I didn't want to gain the knowledge he had offered. I didn't want to receive and lose hope in the same brief instant. But I had, and now there was no turning back.

"I'm sorry son, but, theoretically, it would have been possible for Bella to conceive and carry your child." He looked to the floor, shame and regret emanating from his every pore. "Based on your cautious nature, I never imagined that you two would, um, _join together_ in that manner, so I didn't think it prudent to warn you of the danger. I'm so very sorry."

I stared at nothing as I sat there motionless. I cursed Carlisle for not telling me this sooner but, more so, I cursed myself for not asking. And I cursed an unnamed God for giving me yet another reason to mourn. I was already incapacitated by Bella's death; I had no idea how to cope with another significant loss.

My thoughts returned to the cemetery and my conversation with Charlie. He had been right: Bella had most likely been pregnant when she had died. I had never given any thought to the idea of having children because as far as I had known, vampires did not possess the ability to reproduce. After all, if it were possible, Rosalie and Alice and Esme would surely have mothered children. When Bella and I had been together, the thought had not even crossed my mind that the rules only applied to vampire and vampire relationships. I should have realized then that my relationship with Bella was based upon breaking the rules. I should have known that the fact that she was a human would make the no vampire-children natural law null and void.

But I had found out too late and now Bella and our child were gone. It felt so strange now to think the words _our child_. They were so beautiful and so completely agonizing now that they were more than just a dream. Bella would have been a wonderful mother. She was the most unselfish and caring person I had ever known, which was saying a lot since I had spent decades with Esme. I fantasized about Bella carrying my child, about her stomach swelling with a new life that our love had created. I saw myself kissing her warm skin and listening for the beautiful sound of two hearts beating within her fragile body. Then I saw Bella holding our baby and showering it with her limitless affections, just as I would do. I saw our child wrapping me around its tiny fingers with just one look. I saw—absolutely everything that now would never be.

Before, I realized, I had known nothing of Charlie's suffering. I could never have known the pain of losing a child until I had done so myself. I wound my fingers through my hair and dropped my head to my lap, trembling and sobbing and asking the multitude of whys and what ifs that would continue on for the span of an eternity. I gasped, feeling as though all of the images my mind conjured were suffocating me, regardless of the fact that I did not need the air I breathed.

Carlisle pulled me to my feet and led me into the family room; I could tell from his thoughts that he was worried about my well-being since I had not said more than that single negative word since he had brought a new reality crashing down upon me. My _gift_ was more like a curse as soon as I was in the presence of my family. I could see that, like me, they were imagining the child that would never exist. Like me, they were grieving for what was lost. And, like me, they knew exactly where to place the blame. I couldn't handle the images their minds created in addition to my own. It was just too much for me to bear.

"I'm leaving," I said quietly as my unfocused eyes became clear and I looked at the faces of my family, one by one. I was saying my silent goodbyes. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I doubted I would ever see any of them again. I didn't know how I would be able to stay in their presence every day knowing how much pain I had inflicted upon them, how much I had cost them.

Alice was the first to reply as she stood and wrapped her arm around my own. "We're going with you," she stated vehemently. I opened my mouth to argue as she continued, "And don't try and talk me out of it, Edward. You are a part of this family whether or not you feel you deserve to be right now. We will grieve as a family and we will heal as a family. I will not allow any more of us to slip away. From now on, we stick together." She slid her hand into mine and squeezed it as my parents, my brothers and my other sister nodded in agreement. I inhaled and averted my eyes from theirs, feeling so much like an undeserving fiend that all I wanted to do was start running away and never stop.

But I stayed where I stood because somewhere deep inside of me, I knew that I had only two options: I could either stay with my family and try to put the remaining shattered pieces of my existence back together or I could go off alone and be consumed by the darkness. I thought about what Bella would have wanted, and my decision was made. My family was the only light I had left to fight off the darkness; I knew wherever they went, I would go. Because there had been a day that felt like it had happened lifetimes ago where I had made a promise to the woman I loved. And that promise was to continue existing even though she may not. Even though it might hurt like hell, I owed it to her to keep my word.

Taking charge, Carlisle asked, "So, where are we going to go?"

Everyone's heads filled with different location possibilities, but it was Alice who, once again, spoke up first. "Alaska. We're all going to Alaska."

_**Bella's POV**_

I managed to stay awake for the four-hour-long train ride, possibly because my every muscle ached. I would swear my stomach had grown an inch since I had eaten because the sweatshirt was starting to feel just the slightest bit tight and uncomfortable against my midsection. I made an effort to enjoy the scenery as I repositioned myself over and over, attempting to find some arrangement for my limbs that was comfortable. After trying what I imagined was every possible seating option, I gave up and just rested my head against the cool window as I watched the snow and the trees and the mountains pass by.

By the end of the ride, I wanted nothing more than to get off the train and step out into the cold Alaskan air. I felt like I was burning up and my head felt slightly woozy; I thought maybe the coolness would do me good. But as I stepped off of the train, a sudden blast of ice-cold air caught me off guard and I was abruptly overwhelmed by exhaustion. My legs were wobbly and all of a sudden, the world around me was fading into black.

***

I didn't know how much time had passed before I woke up, but I forced myself into alertness. The lights in the place where I found myself were bright, much, much too bright. My vision was blurred and everything was moving past me too quickly for me to orient myself to my surroundings. I was on something soft, like a bed and there were voices all around me, spouting off numbers and words that I didn't understand. Everything was moving and _I_ was moving and it was making me nauseous. Where was I? What was happening to me? Suddenly, the movement stopped. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm my queasy stomach.

When I opened them, the world was still fuzzy, but there was someone standing next to me. It was a man and he gently placed his fingers on my forehead and then pressed my neck softly in the area of my jugular. I knew that touch. I recognized that sensation of icy, hard fingertips on my skin. I tried with all my strength to clarify my vision, but the man's pale features were still blurred. One important thing about his face stood out, however: The golden honey color of his eyes.


	9. DOCTOR

**Okay, so the last chapter dealt with Bella leaving Seattle, Charlie almost shooting Edward and deciding to let him live with the guilt that he was responsible for the death of Bella and their baby, and Edward realizing that Bella's pregnancy was a possibility and that he had lost so much more than just Bella. In the end, both Bella and the Cullens are headed to Alaska, and when we left off, Bella was in a hospital, looking up into a pair of honey eyes. I wonder who they belong to? Read on to find out :)**

**9 ~ Doctor**

"**This emergency brought you to me**

**I'll be your doctor**

**I'll be your cure**

**I'll be your medicine and more**

**You can rest assure**

**I'm your doctor, I'm your cure**

**I'll be your cure"**

_**Doctor **_**by Cute Is What We Aim For**

**Sunday, October 2 to Monday, October 3**

_**Alice's POV**_

My gift must be fading away. I could see no other reason for the constant cloudiness that surrounded my visions lately. It had all started the day I saw Bella jump. She disappeared and the futures of everyone around me became hazy. That had never happened before and it made me extremely uncomfortable. I was expected to have an idea of what was going to happen to all of us, to know when we were in danger, to help protect my family. I suppose I hadn't done a very good job of that lately, either. The Cullen clan had lost its newest member and I should have seen it coming.

Bella's death was a difficult blow, and even though a small part of me that I could not fight would always blame Edward, an equal part of me would always blame myself. I knew my brother loved Bella more than anything else in this world and I knew that leaving her was a difficult decision for him to make. I knew because I had seen his future solidify and then, just as quickly, ebb into the shadows many times during the hours he had spent alone with Bella after the party. He wanted to be with her, but above his desire to stay was the promise he had made to himself to protect her life above all else. Even if that meant he would have to hurt her. Finally, he had made his choice, and it was the clearest vision I had ever had. I knew that I would not be able to dissuade him, that he had been doing what he thought was right. I wished I had tried harder to convince him otherwise. I wished I could have seen what was coming.

And perhaps that was part of what was bothering me so much, eating away at me while I sat in the passenger seat of our rental car, staring out the window into the darkness as the miles flew by. I had wanted to be with Edward as we drove from the airport into the Alaskan wilderness, but I knew that my thoughts would provide him no comfort, so I had opted to travel with Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie while Carlisle and Esme watched over Edward in a separate vehicle. I knew that the strongest effort on my part could not keep me from asking the questions that were burning in my mind, and Edward's still heart would not be able to take it. The first question was why I had not seen that Edward and Bella had taken their relationship to a whole new, very dangerous level. Not that I really wanted to know the details of my siblings' sex life, but I should have seen _something_.

And the second, more important question was why I had not seen the baby. I knew exactly what I would have done if I had. First, I would have called Bella, told her that I knew and that we were on our way home. Then I would have found Edward, slapped him for being such an ass by leaving Bella after they had made love, and told him that I was going to drag his sorry butt back to Forks if it was the last thing I did. When we reached Bella, I would have made sure that Edward thoroughly convinced her that whatever he had said the night we left was a lie and then I would let Bella tell him the news because it would be more special coming from her. I would watch as their love was renewed and strengthened and then we could share the news with our families and all would be right in the world.

But all was not right; the world was off of its orbit, spiraling toward certain doom. Oh, yes, I knew exactly what I _would have _done, but, now, what was I going to _do_?

_**Bella's POV **_

My vision was still fuzzy so I tried to make up for it by honing in my other senses. I took deep breaths, allowing the scents that surrounded me to enter my nasal passages. I isolated two distinctly familiar aromas when I did this; the first was the medicine-cleaning solution combo that I knew all too well from my frequent faller visits to the hospitals in both Phoenix and Forks. The second was the exceptionally sweet odor that I had come to associate with the presence of vampires. I invited this scent deep into my lungs, allowing it to ease the anxiety that had resulted from the first aroma.

Obviously, being in a hospital with human doctors that had hoards of medical equipment at their disposal would be extremely upsetting to anyone carrying a child that was not entirely human. I had watched the sci-fi movies on occasion; I knew enough about curiosity and experimentation to be disturbed at the idea that parts of my baby's parentage might be made into an _Enquirer_ cover story or an FBI above-top secret file.

It was a minor relief to know that I might be able to form an alliance with the golden-eyed being and save myself a lot of trouble. If I were extremely lucky, he would be a member of the Denali coven I had been searching for and I had inadvertently just saved myself a load of hassle by fainting my way right into their midst. And if I were extremely, _extremely_ lucky, they would be willing to help me. I wasn't going to get my hopes up just yet. But I _was_ going to try to get the hell out of here.

The mysterious man was now pointing one of those blasted pen lights in my eyes and I easily became frustrated. My vision had just started to clear: I had been able to make out his dark hair and his extremely pale skin, but the light brought the blurriness right back. When he had completed that annoying test, he looked directly into my eyes and I was lost. At least I could add another feature to the growing list of vampire traits that this stranger possessed. Despite my distorted vision, he had certainly managed to dazzle me, though it was a very brief occurrence compared to being dazzled by Edward, probably because there was no love to back it up. At least, it had been love to me. Not so much with—_no, focus, Bella, focus_ I chided internally. There was not time for distractions. Not right now. I followed the man's every movement as he jotted notes on his chart and then returned to my side.

Then he spoke. "Hello, Miss Masen. I'm Dr. McCarthy. Can you tell me what happened?" All I could do was stare as I listened to his soft, musical voice. It was certainly not the same as Edward's: he had a slight Irish accent and his tone was a bit deeper, but it was close enough to verify my suspicions. My doctor was a vampire.

_**Alice's POV**_

__As the distance between us and Denali dwindled down to almost nothingness and my weary mind could no longer think about my lost sister, my thoughts wondered to why my chosen location for refuge had not been met with opposition. I knew for a fact that Rosalie despised Alaska, yet, completely against her nature, she had agreed almost instantly to our destination. My eyes flickered to the rearview mirror and I was surprised by both her and Emmett's expressions.

My always cheerful brother looked solemn and pensive. I could only guess at the direction of his thoughts, but I figured that he was mourning the loss of the fragile kid sister that he had loved to pick on because she, unlike me, always reacted to his playful banter. Bella had added another light to Emmett's life, though not in the same way that she had touched the lives of myself, or Esme, or Edward. And now that light was gone. _His_ expression, I supposed, I could explain away after I had thoroughly broken it down.

But Rosalie, I just could not figure her out. She had never liked Bella, though I could in no way understand why. Initially, I could sympathize with her hesitation because Bella had been let in on our family secret, which held the potential to royally mess up our lives. But she had proven herself trustworthy time and time again, and it was obvious to even a complete buffoon that she was head-over-heels in love with Edward. Despite that, Rosalie had never wavered in her opinion of our mortal sister and she had never kept her dislike a secret. I would have expected her to react to Bella's death with apathy.

Yet there she sat in the back seat of the Mercedes, holding Emmett's hand and staring out the window, her reflection displaying equal parts anger and heartbreak. And back at the house, she had hugged Edward firmly when the news of his lost child had broken. It just wasn't like her, and, though I was glad for the change in her normally self-absorbed behavior, I couldn't help but wonder what had brought it on.

She must have noticed my numerous glances in her direction because she met my eyes in the mirror and icily said, "What do you want Alice?" _There_ was the Rosalie I knew, her tone was pure anger. For some reason, her attitude caused an uproar of my own. Maybe I was just looking for an outlet for my painful emotions. Maybe I had just had too much running through my mind during the past weeks and I needed someone to lash out at. Or maybe I felt that she truly deserved my pent up frustrations.

Whatever the reason, I turned to look at her and said, "I'm just wondering what has you looking so depressed. I thought you'd be overjoyed that Bella is gone. You never did—"

"Shut it, Alice," Emmett harshly stated before I could finish. "This is not the time to start picking fights." I noticed his thumb start to soothingly rub back and forth across Rose's palm as his threatening eyes dared me to continue. Perhaps that was precisely what I _was_ doing: picking a fight. But I didn't care. I was tired of thinking about the past and I was tired of searching for the future. I needed to try to live in the present. And, right now, I needed to get rid of my torment, even if that meant inflicting it on someone else.

"It's okay, Emmett," Rosalie said, frowning. She met my eyes then and stated, "Just because I wasn't nice to Bella doesn't mean I didn't like her, Alice." She paused, seeming to internally debate whether or not she should continue. She finally decided she should and said, "To be quite honest, it was more that I envied her. And I _hated_ that. It's never been a secret that I would give up anything to be human again, and there came Bella, waltzing right into our lives as if she was meant to be there, so ordinary and insignificant, not even comparable to myself, and yet she possessed the one thing that I could never have. I couldn't stand it, I couldn't stand that I was jealous of _her_. So I treated her badly.

Maybe that was wrong, but I can't change it now. I felt bad for Edward when we learned that Bella was dead, and then, when I learned about the baby, I—I just have never felt more compassion for anyone than at that moment. It is hard enough wanting a child when you can never have one. But to be given the opportunity and then have it ripped away from you in the same second; I can't even fathom his pain. But at the same time that I was grieving for the lost child, I despised Bella all the more because she had been given the chance at something else I wanted more than anything in this world and she just threw it all away. I always knew this would happen. I always knew that, somehow, she would destroy our family. It's crumbling apart at the seams. You have to see that. We should never have allowed Edward to get involved with her."

I was seething as Rosalie ended her confessions. Her mind had always been somewhat of a mystery to me and now that she had opened a tiny window into the inner-workings of her psyche, I almost wished to restore the enigma. How dare she say that about Bella! As we pulled up to the home of our Alaskan family, I struggled to calmly deliver a message to Rosalie through my clenched teeth. "Rose, you are my sister and I will always love you. But if you _ever_ say anything bad about Bella again I will, personally, tear you apart. And if you ever _think_ anything bad about her again in the presence of Edward, I will delight in watching him destroy you." I jumped out of the car before it had completely stopped moving and I ran into the snowy woods to prevent my thoughts or my emotions from hurting anyone but me.

Rosalie was right about one thing: our family was falling apart, even though we were all, physically, in the same place. _I _was falling apart. And I knew I needed to pull myself together before the next clear vision I witnessed was our family's agonizing destruction.

_**Dr. McCarthy's POV**_

It was hard not to stare into her deep, chocolate eyes. When she had first opened them, all I could see in their depths was the fear. In a flash, I was taken back fifty years to the last time I had seen a strikingly similar pair of eyes widened in terror. Eyes that had silently begged me to save her. But I couldn't and that fact would forever haunt me. The memory caused my silent heart to ache with guilt and regret, though I recovered quickly enough that I was sure that no one, especially not this terrified young woman, had noticed a change in my demeanor. Still, the brief encounter with the memory that I had spent the last decades vainly attempting to erase from my mind filled me with a determination to save _this _girl. It would take more than an eternity for me to recover from the fact that I couldn't save my wife that night but I thought that perhaps saving this young one, who possessed the same soft blonde hair, the same heart-shaped face, the same deep brown eyes as my beloved, would help me atone for my sins, help me survive my remorse.

I smiled a slight, bittersweet smile as I performed the routine examination, careful not to stare at her for too long lest she react as her human survival instincts dictated and make an attempt to flee. Despite my best efforts, the panic was still evident in every feature of her body. For an instant, I wondered if my bedside manner had momentarily lapsed and my true nature was causing the anxiety in this fragile girl. But as her eyes began to focus and she looked directly at my face, the fear faded into something else, something startling. It seemed as if she _recognized_ me.

The recognition was impossible, I knew, because I would have remembered her if we had ever met before. But I was sure that was what I was seeing in her expression as her breathing deepened and her overly-tense form began to relax. I broke eye contact and focused on checking her body for any clue as to why she would have fainted. The EMT that had brought her in had not been able to offer much information except that she had been on a train from Fairbanks to Denali and when she was exiting the train, she had, simply, collapsed. Her personal affects had been brought to the hospital, and from them I had learned that her name was Layla Masen and she was from Chicago. I briefly wondered what had brought her, alone, so far from home.

My eyes returned to her face and she seemed to temporarily stop breathing. But, in an instant, her respiratory and heart rates returned to normal and I realized that she was staring at me. It made me slightly uncomfortable because it was not a characteristic reaction; something in the humans' subconscious minds always set off a warning signal that they were in danger and they averted their gaze. There was something different about this girl and, inexplicably, I found myself desperately wanting to figure her out as well as help her.

I decided it would be a good time to introduce myself and get a general idea of what had happened to her. As I spoke, I studied her face. It was so pale, so thin. It looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks. Her skin was etched with lines of hardship that belonged on a person that was twice her age. I could tell that she had been through an ordeal, something very painful. Something that I somehow knew she hadn't deserved. I waited patiently for her to respond and it took so long that I began to question whether or not she even possessed the ability to speak. I was on the verge of questioning her silence when she glanced around the room at the nurses and her quiet voice finally emerged. Just like her body, her voice was fragile, broken and yet, paradoxically strong and determined.

"Um. Can I—can I speak with you. A—alone?" What an odd request. This girl truly was a rare breed. I looked at my confused staff and they nodded their assent before quickly leaving the room. After they departed, I returned my gaze to my patient. She seemed to be thinking, making an important decision and I was utterly baffled. What could she possibly have to say to _me_ that could not be said in the presence of the two nurses, the two safe _humans_ that had been present? Why did her senses not instruct her to fear me? If it were reasonable, I'd swear that she seemed even _more _relaxed now that the two women had left the room.

She continued to stare into my face and then she whispered. It was well below the audible level for a human conversation at this distance, but as I listened to her words, I realized that it had been her intention. "I know what you are. And I desperately need your help." I replayed her words in my head. She had said "_what_ you are". Not _who _you are. That could have meant a multitude of different things, but somehow, I knew precisely what she was getting at.

As if to convince me of her knowledge of me, she continued to whisper, "Your skin is pale and cold and _hard_. Your eyes are impossibly deep, and the color of honey instead of black and red. That indicates to me that you, like the others I have known, do not conform to the diet that is typical of your kind. I know you have no reason to trust me, no reason to believe me, but I am begging that you do anyway. Because right now, you are the only hope for me and my baby." My eyes flickered to her stomach at that last statement, barely lingering long enough for a typical human to notice. But Layla was no typical human, I was slowly learning, and she had seen my reaction. "That's what I thought," she said at a normal volume, and I knew then that my actions had confirmed her beliefs. I could not help but glance at her stomach yet again, chastising myself for not noticing the upward curve of the blanket in the area of her abdomen. In my defense, she was still wearing her thick winter coat, but still, I should have noticed. My heart ached yet again as the similarities between Layla and my wife continued to grow. But I would not, could not, think about that now.

For the first time in many, many years, I was speechless. How did this woman think that _I _was going to be able to help her? She had said she knew others like me; what others? Did she know the Denali family? They had certainly never made mention of knowing _her_. I looked away from her face for a moment, contemplating whether or not I should just completely deny any awareness of what she had said. Then I returned my eyes to her face, and instantaneously knew it was hopeless. The power of her chocolate orbs were holding me in place, captivating me, forcing me to acknowledge her request. For reasons far beyond my abilities of comprehension, I found myself saying, "What can I do to help?"

_**Bella's POV**_

My heart temporarily stopped beating as I waited for him to respond to my plea for help. When he looked into my eyes and asked what he could do, it soared with the hope that I had been suppressing. For the first time, I truly believed that this might turn out alright. I quickly mulled over what I should and should not tell him, and once I felt as though I had a decent plan of action, I started talking.

"I have about a million questions for you, but I would prefer to have this conversation somewhere a bit more—discreet. If you wouldn't mind, I would like it if you—and only you—would do an ultrasound for me and tell me everything you can about my child. Then, I want to get out of here." His brow furrowed and I could tell he wasn't going to fulfill my requests without a little more information on my part.

"I can assure you that I will gladly answer all of the questions that I am able, but please understand that I will have quite a few questions of my own for you to answer. As for your other requests, I really think it would be best if I transferred you to obstetrics, where I will, of course, supervise your ultras—"

"Absolutely not," I declared with no hint of a possible compromise in my voice. He seemed taken aback by my unwavering tone as if no one, or, perhaps, no _human_ had ever disagreed with him before. _Typical_ I thought bitterly. _He's used to getting his way._ _Oh well_, I thought before I spoke again. I'm not the subservient type. Not anymore. "I will only allow YOU to do it. Please, I have my reasons and I will gladly list them when we are no longer in this place, but I need to be assured that you will respect my wishes while we _are_ here. Trust me." I saw him take a few careful breaths that I knew he did not need as he thought about my words, and then his brow relaxed infinitesimally.

"Okay, let's say that I do as you ask. We check on your child and then leave. Where, exactly, do you plan to go?" I supposed it was a valid question for him to ask, despite the fact that it was he who held the answer. If my good luck continued, we would be heading toward the Denali coven because the good doctor would either be a member of the family or he would know exactly where and how to find them. If not, I figured I would go wherever he went. At least until I knew what was going to happen with my pregnancy. After that, I had no idea. I could only hope that he would not grow tired of me before then. Like the Cullens had. I shook my head to clear any additional thoughts about the family that had left me before they clouded my mind and I reverted back to the zombie state I had been in before I learned about the existence of my child. I was going to be a mother now. I no longer had the luxury of falling apart.

I prayed for good luck as I said, "Well, that depends. Do you happen to know a family like you that lives around here? I don't know much about them except the names of the three sisters: Tanya, Irina and Kate. I was on my way to find them when I—uh—fainted." I was in luck. I saw the wicked fast sparkle of recognition when I said the women's names and I knew that he would be able to take me to them. The question was whether or not he would agree to.

"Yes, speaking of your fainting episode. Is that something that happens frequently?" He was back in doctor mode, stalling, deciding whether or not to disclose the location of the Denali family.

"No, not _frequently_," I replied. "Anyway, that's not important right now. It was probably just a combination of things. My life has been a little—stressful lately." That was the understatement of the century, but I was growing impatient and I really did not feel like enduring a full physical and psychological examination if I could in some way prevent it.

I noticed him eyeing me suspiciously, but after a moment, he said, "Fine, I'll get clearance to enter the obstetrics wing and make sure it's all clear, then we'll get you over there for an ultrasound. For now, you just try to rest. I'll let the nurses know to leave you alone to get some sleep and to page me if you need anything." I nodded in agreement and he left the room. Not surprisingly, soon after I closed my eyes, I succumbed my exhaustion.

***

Sometime later, I awoke to the sound of my name on an angel's lips. Before I was fully awake, I felt my lips whisper, "Edward," but the man who graced my vision when I finally opened my eyes was not the bronze-haired lover that my dreaming heart had expected. I averted my gaze and Conner cleared his throat in discomfort before saying, "Let's get you into the wheelchair and we'll head over to the ultrasound room. We'll make sure your baby is healthy as can be and then we are going to drive to Tanya's house. But in that drive, you have _a lot_ of explaining to do."

I nodded in understanding of his expectations and slowly sat up, swung my legs over the uncomfortable hospital bed and hopped down toward the wheelchair that he had quickly moved in my direction. My legs wobbled as soon as my feet touched the ground and in an instant, his right arm was around my waist and his left hand was under my elbow. His touches were exceptionally gentle, evidence of years of practice as he lowered me into the chair. He mumbled something that sounded like "not frequently my ass" but I decided to let it go because he was, after all, being extremely helpful.

We barely spoke during the elevator ride to the third floor or during the long walk down the hall, but we did manage to make less formal introductions. I learned that his name was Conner and he lived near the hospital over the weekends, which were the only time he worked. During the remainder of his week, he lived with the Denali family. I carefully introduced myself, and, luckily, he hadn't noticed my slight hesitation when I said my name. Before he had the chance to ask me for details about my life, we had reached the ultrasound room.

He looked around cautiously, and then swiped his access card. Within seconds, we were inside the room. He assisted me as I moved from the chair to the exam table and then I watched as he turned on the monitor and numerous other pieces of strange looking equipment. When everything was properly set up, he spun to face me and said, "Okay, Layla. I'm going to need you to remove your coat and slide your shirt up so that I can see your stomach." It still sounded strange, being called Layla. I wondered if I would ever fully get used to it as I removed my bulky coat and slid the tight sweatshirt up above my bulging stomach. I was slightly shocked; it seemed as though every time I looked at my belly it was noticeably bigger.

As his hands busied themselves with the equipment, he asked, "How far along are you?" Good question. If this had been a normal pregnancy, I wouldn't even know about the existence of my baby for another two to three weeks. But it was certainly not normal and I could only guess, from what I had read in Seattle, that I was the equivalent of about three to four months pregnant.

"Um, I'm not exactly sure," I admitted sheepishly. I could have told him my guesstimate, but I was trying very hard not to lie to him because I fully intended to omit certain things when I further explained my situation and I didn't want to lie on top of it. Plus, I was a terrible liar anyway and he would probably see right through my horrible acting skills.

"Okay, well, we'll see what we can find out, okay?" He was trying to be reassuring, but I could tell that he was more than a little bit uncomfortable. I imagined that this was because he was an emergency room doctor and performing ultrasounds was not a task he had frequently had to do. Or maybe it was because a stranger had come along and managed to see right through his charade. Or perhaps it was for some other reason altogether. I really could not be sure.

"Please try to be still. I'm going to put this gel on your stomach," he stated as he held up a white tube of the gel, "and then we should be able to see your baby on this monitor over here," and he pointed to the monitor. "Just a warning, though, the gel is going to be very cold." No worries. I was used to the cold. He placed a small squirt of the cool blue substance in a line above my belly button, and my body instantly tensed. "Just relax, Layla." Relax. Okay. Right. I waited as he used the machine's probe to spread the gel around and scan my stomach and both of our sets of eyes flashed to the screen expectantly. But nothing happened. The screen remained unchanged. There was no rapidly thumping heartbeat like I had seen in the movies. There was no grayscale image of a childlike-being. There was nothing. He continued to move the stick to different areas of my belly, but the screen never flickered to a new picture. Every passing second was torture. Every moment that I stared at the blank screen was breaking off tiny pieces from my shakily reassembled heart.

"Why isn't there anything on the screen," I questioned, my voice an octave higher than its typical tone. There had to be an explanation. Maybe the machine was broken.

"I'm not sure, but don't worry. It's not good for you to get upset. I'll figure it out." And he tried. Bless his quiet heart he tried. But nothing he did changed the image on the screen. It was as if my child did not exist.

He silently wiped the gel from my stomach after he became certain that there was nothing more he could do, and when I was all cleaned up, he finally met my eyes, cleared his throat and tenderly whispered, "Layla, are you absolutely sure you're pregnant?" I stopped breathing and my temper flared. Was I sure? Of course I was fucking sure! I had given up my life for this baby. I had left everything behind. I had made love to Edward. My period was a no-show. I looked like I had swallowed a small watermelon. I was tired all the time and throwing up all the time and I was craving bloody cheeseburgers. Of course I was pregnant. And alone. I started to cry, the tears pouring out of my eyes like raindrops from a saturated cloud that had been holding water for entirely too long. My body shook with sobs and he tried to comfort me, but I was so distraught that I could not make out his soothing words.

And then it happened, as it always seemed to when I was falling apart, in one way or the other. The baby kicked. Without a second thought for the consequences, I grabbed Conner's hand and held it against my stomach. At first, he was frozen in shock, and then he gently tried to pull his hand away from the flesh of my stomach. He stopped suddenly when the baby nudged again. He looked at my face for a split second and then his gaze fell upon my stomach where our hands rested, waiting. My sweet child did not disappoint as he kicked again. Conner's golden eyes met mine and he smiled widely. I returned his smile and for the smallest instant, I was happy. But there was something terribly wrong with this picture perfect moment. The cold, gentle, stone touch felt much the same. The dazzling honey eyes were much the same. But _he_ was _not_ the same. It should have been Edward whose hand rested upon my growing belly. It should have been Edward looking at me in awe as he felt our child move within me. It should have been Edward who was helping me through this incredible life experience. It should have been Edward—but it wasn't.

**Conner**_**'s POV**_

I felt the proof beneath my fingertips. Just a slight little bump against my granite skin and I learned a few very important things. The first was that long-forgotten memories from the life I left behind could resurface at any time, without any hint of a warning. I stared at our hands and I remembered doing this before. Many, many years ago, when my touch had been warm, and the child growing beneath my fingers had been a beautiful combination of me and my wife. I looked up into Layla's face, and through her eyes, I felt as though I was looking directly into her soul. And the crazy thing was it was like a mirror image of my own. I instantly saw her sadness, her sense of betrayal and guilt, but hidden deep within her was the person she used to be. In the depths of her tormented spirit, there was still a fragment of hope and potential happiness. As I looked at her, I realized a second thing: Layla was strikingly beautiful in her own way. Yes, she reminded me of my wife in many aspects, but she was also very different, very fragile, very perfect. I felt a tremendous need to protect her, and her child. Which lead me to my third, and, perhaps, most important realization: in mere seconds, and without logical explanation or any conscious decision of my own, I had become attached to this human. The last time I had loved, it had ended in horrible tragedy. Perhaps it was time to begin anew.

I smiled, she smiled back, and I was, once again, struck by her beauty. I had no right to desire her; it was wrong on so many levels and excessively dangerous. Yet it felt so positively _right_. Until her smile faded away. I was instantly worried. "Layla, what's wrong?" I asked her, but she just shook her head as a few lonely tears slid down her face.

"Nothing," she lied. I knew that I should not press for an explanation, though I was feverishly curious as to the cause of her suffering and I vowed that, in time, I would get her to open up to me.

"Don't worry," I said. "We will figure this out. I promise. You can trust me." I could tell by her expression that she had heard these words before, and judging from the doubt I saw lingering in her eyes, I was fairly certain that whoever had spoken them had broken that promise. I inwardly vowed that I would not. "Are you ready to get going? If we leave now, we should be able to make it to Tanya's by midnight." She glanced at the large clock on the wall then as she pulled down her sweatshirt and reached for her coat and her expression turned from sadness to confusion.

"How long was I asleep? And where, exactly, am I? I thought I was already in Denali. Why will we only reach them by midnight?" I had forgotten that she had been unconscious during the majority of her transport to Fairbanks Memorial, so she was probably under the impression that she was somewhere near the train station in Denali.

"Layla," I said softly as I suddenly realized that I loved the way her name rolled off my tongue, "We're in Fairbanks. There are no hospitals in Denali so they brought you to the closest one, which was here at Memorial. You slept, on and off, for about 18 hours. I would have woken you sooner, but you looked as though you needed the rest. If we leave now, I will do my best to get us there in record time, okay?" She stood and I fought the urge to hold her upright unless her legs decided they no longer wanted to do their job. Unfortunately for me, they seemed to be working properly and I was left to contemplate this strange and rapid shift in myself. It made no sense that this girl should affect me this way, and, yet, I welcomed the long-dormant emotions. It was nice to actually _feel _again.

We walked to the parking garage and I held the door for her as she slid into the passenger seat of my WRX. By the time I opened my door, seated myself and started the engine, Layla had her head leaned back against the head rest and her eyes were closed. Almost instantly, her breathing evened out and she was asleep again, so I fought back the urge to start my rapid-fire questioning and allowed her to get some rest. I figured that if her body was sleeping this much, she probably was in dire need of a break from the stresses of her life and her unusual pregnancy.

I called Tanya and, as quickly and quietly as possible, I told her that I was coming home. She seemed elated with the news because her distant "relatives" were visiting and she had been going on about me meeting them practically every day since I had found them 18 months ago. Her excitement over our visitors made her less inquisitive about my reasoning for returning home late, which I was, strangely, grateful for. For some reason, I didn't want her to know about my own precious visitor.

"No! Please. Don't go!" Her cries broke through my thoughts and, for a moment, I thought she had awakened. But I heard her steady breathing and her eyes remained closed, so I was left to listen to her sleep talking and attempt to analyze her cryptic statements. Perhaps I would learn more from her subconscious mind than I could ever hope to extract from her conscious one. "Stop! No. Stop! Stop! STOP! I'll do anything, please! Victoria, no!" So much for that idea. She was awake now, her eyes blinking rapidly in confusion and then widening as she looked at me.

"Conner? I'm so sorry. How long was I sleeping?" she asked, embarrassed.

"Pretty much since you got in the car," I said, smiling. "But don't worry. We're almost there. Actually, about five more minutes on this road and you'll see the house. You missed the whole trip." She seemed to be concentrating on something, the lines on her forehead creasing deeply and her upper teeth chewing away on her bottom lip. "Are you alright?" I asked. I could only imagine that the nightmare that had awakened her had left her upset and I wanted to make that go away. Actually, I desperately wanted her to talk to me about it. When she didn't reply, I continued, "You seemed to be having a nightmare."

"I did?" she asked, honesty in her every feature. "I don't remember. I never remember. It's always just flashes of colors when I wake up. Never anything that makes sense." She was frustrated, and I wanted to know the reason for that, too. There was so much about this woman that was a mystery, and I intensely wanted to unravel it.

I could see the house in the distance and I thought it would probably be a good idea to tell her about our visitors before she stumbled into a full house of strange vampires. There was no sense in making her more upset if I could prevent it. "Layla, just to let you know, some of Tanya's extended fam—"

"Turn around!" she shouted as we drew nearer to the house. Her eyes were wide with alarm so I did as she asked without the benefit of an explanation for why I was doing so.

"Layla, what's wrong? I don't understand. That's Tanya's house. That's where you asked to go." Her leg was shaking vigorously and her bottom lip was in severe danger of being chewed right off her face. She was the most panic-stricken creature that I had ever seen, and I had certainly seen more than my fair share of frightened beings.

"I can't go there right now. They are not alone," she stated simply, her body still quivering. How had she known that? I was on the verge of telling her, yes, but I hadn't quite gotten the words out.

"Layla, it's okay. Yes, there are other people at the house, but they are members of Tanya's family. That is what I was about to tell you. They are visiting." I pulled the car over to the side of the road and searched her face for some sort of reasonable explanation. I found none. "They are safe. _You_ are safe, Layla. I won't let anything hurt you."

She looked into my eyes and I could see the pain in her own chocolate ones. "I know they are safe, generally. But they are not safe for _me_. Please don't ask me to explain right now, because I honestly don't know if I would be able to. If you truly want to help me, you can go to Tanya's home and find out how long the guests will be visiting. I will only go there once they are gone." She looked away from me and stared out the window. I had no more of an idea what the hell was going on now than I had when she had informed me at the hospital that she knew I was a vampire. But I did know that these new people frightened her, and that was a good enough reason for me to honor her request.

It wasn't far; I could easily run the few miles back to the house. "Okay," I agreed, "but only on the condition that, when you are ready, you explain to me what just happened. And I would greatly appreciate if that would be sooner rather than later because I cannot fully help you if I don't know what is going on." She looked at me and nodded, and I stepped out of the running vehicle. There was plenty of gas left to heat the car for the next two hours or so. I would make sure to return before then. "I'll be back as soon as I can," I promised and as I was about to break into a run, I heard her car door open and the sweet girl called my name.

"Conner! Wait! When you go, do not think about me. Do not picture me. You must keep me out of your head. Whatever you have to do to keep me out of your thoughts, do it. If you don't, they will know. Please, they can't know, Conner. The just can't." This woman was just full of impossible riddles. I didn't know why she was here or how she had come to keep company with vampires or what these visitors had done to scare her away. And I sure as hell did not know why I wasn't allowed to think about her.

But I did know that I was completely mad over her and I would do anything she asked of me, regardless of how little sense it made in my mind. "Okay," I told her and then I was running through the snow and wondering how the hell I was going to prevent myself from thinking about the woman who had suddenly become the so important to me.

_**Edward's POV**_

I heard the door open and my mind was filled with an Irish accented recitation of _The Iliad_ in its original Greek. I blocked it almost instantly and turned to see a dark-haired man I didn't recognize brushing the snow from his jacket onto the carpet in the foyer. He looked up and met my eyes, but he said nothing and quickly averted his gaze. Tanya flounced in the room then, and the cold air swirled around the new-comer and assaulted my nostrils. I was on my feet in an instant and stalking toward the man because in that air I had smelled the familiar scent of my Bella.


	10. KEEPING THE BLADE

**In the last chapter, Bella met up with a new character, Dr. Conner McCarthy, who is a vampire that is helping her get to the Denali coven. They are almost there when Bella shrieks for him to turn the car around, because, NA-NAAA, the Cullens are there. Conner leaves Bella in the nice warm car while he runs to the Denali house to do some reconnaissance work for Bella. He was instructed not to think of her, so he isn't, but there's this little thing called the vampires' heightened sense of smell, and Edward smells Bella all over the new visitor. Rut-ro, Reorge. Read on to find out what Edward does, and whether or not the Cullens find out that Bella is not dead. Oh yeah, and we hear from the evil villainess Victoria in this chapter, too :)**

**10 ~ Keeping the Blade**

"**general sinister instrumental music"**

_**Keeping the Blade **_**by Coheed and Cambria**

**Sunday, October 2 to Tuesday, October 4**

_**Victoria's POV**_

__Stupid, vile human. She was so weak, so vulnerable, so unworthy of the attention James had given her. I obviously hadn't been enough to satiate his desires, so he felt the need to go after her even though he must have known it would cost him his life. He could not have honestly thought he would be able to kill someone the family of vampires had so staunchly protected and escape with his life. Why hadn't he thought about me? I had devoted myself to him for years, but it was never enough. Even in his poor decision, I had supported him, helped him. I was always there for him and he had never been there for me. I was angry with what he had done, and yet I loved him. Because of that, I couldn't bring myself to hate him. Instead, I hated _her_. I hated her for being alive when he was not. She was a nothing, a despicable little creature that did not deserve to stay alive. And she had managed to bring about his destruction and royally mess up my existence.

I planned to make sure she didn't survive for much longer. It was so convenient that they had left her, utterly defenseless, practically begging me to end her life. Without the possibility of a fight with my own kind to get to the human, it was going to be much too easy; I was actually afraid I might not delight in killing her as much as I had hoped. And I certainly deserved to delight in it. I would make her suffer, of course; her physical pain would outweigh my emotional struggles by far, but it would still be much too simple. It was of no consequence, regardless. Her death was merely the means to an end, the settling of a score. A mate for a mate.

Yes, I hated her, but I mostly wanted her to suffer because it would intensify _his _suffering to know her death had not been easy. And _he_ is who I truly wanted to suffer. Because if it hadn't been for _him, _James would still be here. If _he_ hadn't brought a human into our world, we would have played a game of baseball and then been hundreds of miles away from here. If _he_ hadn't placed a human's life above the life of one of his own kind, his family wouldn't have killed James. The girl's death would be a pleasure, sure, but Edward's pain would be pure bliss.

Up until now, that had been the plan. It wasn't quite as simple as I had imagined due to the presence of those annoying wolves, but I was so close to attaining my goal it was almost laughable. And then that stupid girl had to go and kill herself. At least, that had been the talk about town—that she had leapt from a cliff because of a shattered heart and a broken mind. But something about the circumstances of her death was a little off. I wasn't quite sure why, but I wasn't thoroughly convinced that she was dead.

At first, I thought I was just pissed that I hadn't gotten to her first, but I knew that wasn't completely it. There was something else, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. And I knew the hunt was on. I needed to find her and make sure that I made the lie that everyone believed into an unquestionable reality. The only problem was that I had no idea where to start looking. I was smart enough to know that I was going to need some help, and since James was gone, that left me with only one other option at the moment: Laurent.

The last I knew, he had gone to Alaska to try out the vegetarian lifestyle. I cringed. It was absolutely repulsive, the idea of drinking blood from something other than a human. Oh well, I supposed it was his choice if he wanted to associate with such riffraff. It was time I paid a visit to my old friend and asked him for a favor. He owed me that much. I vowed that somehow this would get settled and poor little Isabella would die. I smiled at the thought and started to run north.

_**Bella's POV**_

I gripped the passenger seat so hard that my knuckles were aching and white as I watched Conner break into a run and disappear from my view. I had to hold onto something, anything that would keep me in the car instead of calling out to him again and telling him that I had changed my mind, that I wanted to go back to Tanya's house. Because a part of me desperately wanted that. Wanted to see Edward again, and tell him what was happening to me. Wanted to feel his cold arms wrap themselves around me and hear his perfect voice tell me that it would all turn out alright. Wanted to hear him tell me that he loved me, that he loved _us_. But that was the dreamer's part of me, that was the fantasy, the _lie_. What I wanted from life and what I was going to get were two entirely different things.

The truth of it was that I didn't have the courage to face him. There was no doubt in my mind that he was no longer in love with me. Sometimes I wondered if he ever was at all. It never really did make sense for him to see so much in me. That had always nagged at me, the confusion of why he cared, even in the times when his love had seemed so pure, so perfect. But I had suppressed the doubts, pushed them to the very back of my mind, hoping that it didn't matter, that, somehow, I had managed to make the man of my dreams fall for plain, ordinary me. Maybe I should have listened to the warning bells in my head. Maybe then it wouldn't have hurt so much to hear the truth. Maybe then I wouldn't be afraid to hear him say, once again, that he didn't want me.

The crazy thing was, though, having Edward reject me again wasn't the thing I feared the most. The thing that terrified me was that he would want to be with me again after he learned about the baby. That he would want to be with me again _only_ because of the baby. I had already dealt with losing him once, and I had come to terms with the fact that I would love him forever, even if he didn't choose to love me. I had hoped that someday I might even forget how much it hurt to know he didn't care. I could never forget him, even if I wanted to, which I didn't, but at least his absence might make the pain a little bit more bearable. But to have him with me, to see him every day knowing that he doesn't love me, to look at him, brush past him, _smell _him. It would be too much. Every time he came near me, my heart would break all over again. And how many times can one person's heart break before they die from the pain? I didn't want to find out.

But what would make my life easier was not all that I had to consider. Five miles down the road was the father of my baby; I had the opportunity to tell him the truth and give my child the chance to know both of his parents. Could I really be selfish enough to deny my baby that chance? Could I really be that horrible of a person to put my desires above what was best for my child? The only answer my mind kept giving for these questions was no.

The war that raged within me was about to end. Each side had given its best fight, its strongest argument. And now it was time to determine which side had won. In the end, it came down to my priorities. I needed to decide who would come first in my life: my baby or me. And once I had reduced the argument to that, my choice was obvious. It had been the same since the first second I had felt my child move inside my body. It would be the same until the day I died. My child would always come first.

Now that I had made my decision, I willed my tears to stop. I willed my body to stop shaking long enough for me to maneuver my way to the driver's side of Conner's car. I willed my mind to keep some clarity as I steered the car along the snowy roads that would take me back to Tanya's house. And I willed my heart to keep on beating no matter what happened when I got there.

_**Edward's POV**_

__I reached him within seconds, and he didn't have time to react before I grabbed him by the collar of his coat and shoved him up against the wooden door through which he had just entered. Luckily, the door was solid oak and did not crack from the force of his body being slammed against it, though it did cause quite a loud thud and I knew that the other occupants of the household would soon be coming to investigate the cause of the sound. He pushed me away from him and said "What the hell!" but his anger was strangely mixed with curiosity.

Tanya stood between us with her back facing the newcomer and her hand outstretched in my direction. I did not move at him again but I continued to stare into his eyes and I opened my mind to his thoughts. _The Iliad _again. His mind should have been cursing me out for attacking him, wondering why I had done it. But he seemed only minimally surprised at my actions and his thoughts were very controlled. _Too_ controlled. He was hiding something. How he knew to do so in my presence was a mystery, but I was going to find out what the hell was going on if I had to pummel it out of him.

My entire family was in the room in less than a minute, and I saw me through their eyes. I saw how deranged I looked, how distraught. But their presence would be to my benefit, because my family could confirm what my senses were screaming at me: that this stranger smelled like Bella. And not faintly, not in a way that could be written off as just strikingly similar but not quite right. The smell was _exactly_ Bella, and no one was going to convince me otherwise because I had lived and breathed that scent ever since her arrival in Forks last January. Freesia and strawberries and heaven. Perfection. Delight. _Pain._

She was dead, I knew it, I really did, and I had been trying to accept that ever since I had heard Alice speak the words. But I still wanted to hope that we were wrong. No one had actually witnessed her death; nobody had found her lifeless form. She could still be alive. God, I wanted that so much. I wanted to believe that there was a chance for me to make this right. I wanted to believe that my broken world could somehow be put back together again. If I had to spend an eternity making my stupid actions up to her, I would do it if only she were alive to give me the chance. I would shower her with my affections; I would give her anything and everything she wanted.

"Edward, what's going on?" Tanya asked gently, coddling me as she had been for the past few hours as if that would somehow be just what I needed to fix my life. My family members were all asking the same question, though their inquiries were within their minds.

Instead of answering Tanya, I answered them. "Sniff," I pleaded, looking into each of their faces before my gaze returned to his eyes. I had learned from Bella just how informative peoples' eyes could be when their minds were being uncooperative. "Just get close to him and inhale. It's there, I swear it. He smells just like her." When I mentioned that he smelled like her, he looked away and I grew even more suspicious of him. I focused in on his mind. Nothing. Still that damn story.

"Oh, Edward. Don't do this." It was Tanya again, the kindness in her voice somewhat strained now. "I know you are going through a difficult time, really, I understand. But Conner has never wronged you and he is a part of my family. I will not have you disrespecting him in my home." Oh, I fully planned on doing more than disrespecting him if I found out he was keeping Bella from me.

Everyone in my family stayed stuck to their respective spots on the hardwood floor, saddened, it seemed, by my evident loss of sanity. Everyone except for Alice, who bit her lower lip in a completely Bella-esque fashion before she walked slowly toward Conner. My heart ached as I pictured Bella blushing and chewing on her lip. She was so cute and so innocent and the little things like that were what I missed the most. When Alice was about six inches away from him, she closed her eyes and inhaled, slow and deep. She gasped and her eyes flew open. She stared at him for a moment, and then her eyes moved to me. I heard her thoughts before she voiced them for the rest of my family. "Edward is right. He smells just like her. Just like Bella."

_**Conner's POV**_

I was a complete idiot. I had been so focused on keeping my thoughts clear of Layla, for reasons that I still wasn't sure, and I hadn't even considered the fact that my kind are renowned for their sense of smell. I was delighted to inhale the fragrance that our interactions had left clinging to my clothing, but it hadn't occurred to me until right this second that the smell of her would let the cat out of the bag. I hoped that my stupidity had not placed her in danger; I would never forgive myself if it had.

Wait, that tiny woman had just said that I smelled like "Bella". Who the hell was Bella? Perhaps this was all just a very big misunderstanding. Maybe I still had the chance to protect her.

"Look, I don't know what you're going on about. I don't know anyone named Bella and the only things I smell like are a bunch of human patients that I treated at the hospital today. Could someone please explain to me what is going on?" I didn't have to wait long for someone to speak, though I was a bit leery of the fact that it was my attacker's voice that rang out.

"No, Conner, you don't smell like "a bunch of human patients", you smell very strongly of one human girl in particular. Her name is Bella and if you know where she is, you are going to tell me or, so help me, I am going to tear you apart." Wonderful. I was being threatened and I had no clue why or what the hell was happening here. And there was no doubt in my mind that he meant every word he spoke. How was I going to get myself out of this one? I decided to go with honesty for the time being.

"I wish I could help you, uh, Edward, was it? But I truthfully don't know what is going on. Who is this Bella, anyway? Why are you so concerned about a human girl?" I saw the pain flash in his eyes and he lowered his head as what I recognized all too well as grief washed over him. I actually almost felt bad for him. Maybe I would have felt some sympathy if the memory of him shoving me up against the door wasn't so fresh in my head.

I saw a blonde haired man come up behind him and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Then the man looked at me. "Hello, Conner. Tanya has told us a great deal about you. My name is Carlisle and this is my wife, Esme, and our children." He motioned around the room to the other members of his family. "You must forgive my son. He—well, our entire family, actually—has been though a great deal these past few days. You see, Bella, the human girl we speak of, was like a member of our family and we recently lost her. It has been very difficult for all of us. I hope you can understand."

"Of course, yes, I understand. My condolences." This was beginning to make a little more sense. This family had recently lost a human named Bella, and Layla had seemed to know them when we were nearing the house, but had not wanted to see them or have them know that she was here. I was starting to wonder if Bella and Layla were one and the same. I was also starting to wonder why, exactly, she was hiding from them. His strained words broke through my ponderings and I instantly realized my mistake.

"Conner, who is Layla?"

_**Edward's POV**_

_** …**__Bella and Layla were one and the same. Why was she hiding from them…?_

He had finally slipped up and it took all of the control I possessed to keep myself from hitting him. I clenched my fists together and asked him about his thoughts. His eyes grew wide almost instantly and before he once again started thinking about that blasted Greek story, I saw a flash of images run through his mind. _A blonde-haired girl lying in a hospital room, her eyes widened in fear. The same girl sitting in the passenger seat of a car, sleeping. Hands on a swollen stomach and then the girl smiling widely._

She was blonde now but still beautiful. My Bella, she was alive. I nearly cried out with joy. And then I realized the meaning of what else I had seen. She was thin, to the point of being unhealthily so, and yet her stomach had been rounder, bigger. And _he _had been holding her hand and touching her swollen body. I was going to _kill_ him.

"Where is she?" I shouted before I gave him the opportunity to respond to my last question with a lie. I attempted to launch myself at him, but Carlisle was still holding me in place and just as I was about to break free from him, Emmett grasped my other shoulder and kept me from attacking Conner. "Where?!?" I demanded again, more loudly this time, still struggling to break free.

"Calm down, Edward," Carlisle said in a tone that was both soothing and authoritative. He looked from me to Conner and back again.

"I will NOT calm down, Carlisle! I saw his mind. He's been doing his best to keep me out ever since he got here but I _saw _her. He knows where she is." I was an emotional disaster. I was so completely elated that my biggest hope had been realized: Bella was not dead. I could still make things right. But I was also desperate and worried and confused and angry because I couldn't do anything if I didn't know where she was. Conner knew and he was going to tell me. And then I was going to rip into him for touching my Bella.

"Conner, what is he talking about?" Tanya asked, her gaze ping-ponging between my eyes and his. Tanya's brow furrowed as she watched him. It appeared as though she was finally becoming suspicious.

He looked at me, his expression full of false confusion. "I have no idea," he stated, his jaw clenched. That lying son-of-a-bitch. "Look, I'm sorry Tanya, but I can't stay here if it's going to be like this. I'm going to get going back to my place and you can give me a call when it is okay for me to come back. I'm sorry." He turned to leave. If he walked out that door, my chances of finding Bella went with him. There was no way I was going to let that happen. Somehow, I wriggled free from Emmett's stronghold and I lunged for Conner.

He turned when he heard my movements, but I was too fast and I managed to propel him through the front picture window. I followed him through the broken glass to the snow-covered ground outside and was on top of him before he had time to right himself. I growled at him and then her panicked words froze me in place.

"Edward STOP!" I looked in the direction of her voice and, if it were possible, my heart would have skipped a beat. The snowy wind swirled her hair in front of her face and nearly froze the wetness of her tears to her reddened cheeks. My mouth gaped open as I took her in, the sight of her, the smell of her. How badly I wished to hold her right at that moment. She was so small, so fragile, and yet within her tiny frame was my entire universe. How had I ever managed to leave her behind? I vowed, then and there, that I would never, ever do it again.

In my shock, I had forgotten what I had been doing prior to her arrival until I felt his fist contact my jaw and I went flying through the air toward a nearby tree. My body smacked against the trunk and it made a splitting sound, but remained standing. I growled again, but I was not tempted to return to the fight. Bella was here. I had more important things to take care of.

"Conner!" I heard her yell pleadingly. "Please, don't." My eyes left her and gazed at him, just in time to see the look he gave her when she said his name. I didn't like it. Not at all. It was possessive, protective, worried. All things he certainly should _not_ be feeling for the woman who was the center of _my_ world. Our fight would have to wait, but I certainly would not forget to pick up where we had left off.

_**Bella's POV**_

My memory had not done him justice. He was absolutely breathtaking. My heart ached and the tears silently snuck down my frozen cheeks. I wondered for the millionth time if I had made the right choice in coming here. Conner walked to me quickly and protectively pulled me against his side. Edward was not far behind him and he hissed at Conner's actions. I wasn't quite sure how to take that reaction, and while I wasn't entirely sure I should be allowing Conner to act as he was, I also knew that I just might need his protection and comfort in the coming hours, so I decided to allow his arm to hold me close even though my body yearned to run to Edward.

I had to remember. All of his cruel words that I had fought so hard to forget needed to be brought to the forefront of my mind so that I wouldn't fall to my knees and beg Edward to reconsider his feelings. I was stronger now. He had said he didn't need or want me and I was determined not to need or want him. Or, at least, not to need him because I didn't think I would ever be able to stop wanting him. I had come here for one reason and one reason only and when I was done with that, I would allow myself to get away for a little bit and cry. And then I would move on. Falling apart at his feet was unacceptable.

I heard the sound of voices coming from the direction of the house and I instantly tensed. The first person to reach us was a gorgeous strawberry-blonde stranger. She ran to Edward's side and grabbed his hand as he stood there, alternating between shooting daggers from his dark eyes in the direction of Conner and looking at me, his expression full of confusion and pain. "Edward, are you okay?" she said in the beautiful, melodic voice that I had expected to exit her lips. She looked worried and confused and _possessive_. I hated her already. She had no right to feel possessive over Edward. Who was she anyway? She was gorgeous and perfect and had all the common attributes of a vampire. So, basically, she was everything that I wasn't. And she was, no doubt, one of the distractions Edward had mentioned before he left.

When she realized that Edward was currently incapable of speaking, she looked from Conner to me, her eyes dripping with disdain as they performed a quick onceover, and then back to Conner and said, "What the hell is going on, Conner? Who is this?" Her words were jumbled in my ears. All I had the ability to focus on right now was her hand intertwined with Edward's. I suddenly was not feeling up to this anymore. I had expected to see Edward and the rest of the Cullens but I had also expected him to be alone. I guess I had been secretly, even unbeknownst to me, hoping that he would be missing me just a little bit. I had been completely wrong, completely stupid yet again and now I was even more certain than I had ever been that he had never cared. He took everything from me and he didn't care.

I forced my eyes to break away from the evil sight of their hands, looked into Conner's golden eyes as if they were my lifeline and found my voice. "Conner, will you please take me back to Fairbanks? I can't—I just—I thought, but I—can we just go?" I couldn't even form a coherent sentence. My mind was a mess. I had sworn to myself that he wouldn't break me again and he had. My heart was being ripped apart, piece by excruciating piece and if I didn't get away from here, I was fairly certain I would die from the pain of it. Their voices rang out simultaneously.

"Bella!?!" sounded from the house and closer in the voices of all the members of the Cullen family.

"Sure, let's go," Conner responded to my request.

"Bella, please, what are you doing?" asked Edward. I looked away from Conner and into Edward's saddened eyes. Why would he be sad? He had no reason to be. _I _still loved _him, _after all. And now he had _her_. He had everything. I had nothing. Well, no, that wasn't entirely true. I had our child. The one thing he had given me that he had no right to take away.

Maybe I would manage to build up the courage to talk to him about it once I had come to terms with his _distraction _but, until then, I needed space. Looking away from his eyes before they disabled my faculties of motion, I glanced once again at their offensive hands. Could he not see how much it was killing me? He followed my gaze and instantly released the beautiful woman's fingers. He looked back at me, I knew, but I did not return the gesture.

My sadness was gradually dimming and replacing itself with anger and frustration and bitterness. How could he do this to me? Why couldn't he have cared just a little bit? My new emotions made my words colder than I had intended them to be as I answered his question. "I'm leaving, Edward. I'm surprised you didn't recognize the action, seeing as how you so expertly did the same thing only weeks ago." I felt guilty as soon as the words were out, which only increased my anger with myself because I should not be the one feeling guilty.

I steeled myself to meet his gaze one more time, taking a deep breath and cementing my hardened expression in hopes that my emotions would not cause it to waver. I looked up into his beautiful face, directly into his eyes, which I refused to allow to dazzle me, and stated matter-of-factly, "Then again, I never was as good at things as you were. That was always part of the problem, wasn't it? But don't worry, I'll leave you to your _distractions_." My eyes flitted to the woman standing next to him as I said the last word and then returned to his shocked face. I drank in the sight of him one last time and then turned toward the car with Conner.

This had not gone as I had expected, not at all. I should have just stayed in the parked car. I should never have come here. Maybe I would get lucky and he hadn't noticed the change in my profile enough to ask questions. Maybe I could just remove myself from his life like he had removed himself from mine and try to put the pieces of me back together again. _Just breathe_ I thought to myself. In and out. In and out. I longed for the rocking chair. I longed for the comfort of my home, my bed, my family. But most of all, I longed to be wrapped in the cool, loving arms of the man that I had just turned my back on.

_**Victoria's POV**_

I approached the house stealthily, careful to maintain a position that would not alert the Denali vampires to my presence. Carefully, I made my way up a tree to an area of cleared branches that were practically made for me to use as a lookout station. The sight that met my eyes when I looked in the direction of the house caused both joy and frustration. Joy because my hunch had been correct: Isabella was alive and standing only about a hundred feet away from me. Her hair was different, and her body had changed slightly, but I would recognize her scent anywhere. It had lingered in my nasal passages since the day James had died.

The frustration came when I counted the twelve vampires that were positioned near her. I may be good in combat, but even I knew when I had met my match and being outnumbered twelve to one was certainly more than I would be able to handle. So I remained in my tree and covertly observed and listened. The conversation bored me until the fragile human grew some semblance of a backbone and told dear Edward that she was leaving. The expression on his face was priceless; it looked as if she had slapped him. Oh yes, he still loved her, though it was obvious she thought he didn't. This was going to be so fun. And it would definitely be to my advantage if I only had to deal with the one dark-haired vampire they called Conner to get to the girl. He shouldn't be difficult to kill.

I was about to dismount as she turned toward the car until I heard his words ring loud and clear in my ears, as if he had been standing right next to me, as if I had been meant to hear his plea. "Bella, please, don't go. What about our baby?" _Their baby_? What baby? How could they have a baby? I looked at the human girl again and I saw how her coat was snug against her midsection. I couldn't believe I had missed that. I supposed the myths that revolved around vampire-human couplings were true, though they typically resulted in the human being killed by her lover. There really wasn't much in the way of precedents in this situation, although I could see how it might happen. This was better than I ever could have dreamed. The wheels of evil thought were turning rapidly in my mind and I was even more eager to complete my task now than I had ever been.

Because now I wasn't just going to hurt Edward as much as he had hurt me. No, I was going to hurt him _more_. I was going to kill the woman he loved and with her death would come the death of their child. He would suffer and I would be satisfied. All that was left to do was to watch and wait. And when the time came, they would die.


	11. HISTORY

**When last we met, Victoria is in Alaska, plotting to kill Bella, Edward learned that Bella was alive and he absolutely detests Conner, and Bella thinks that Edward is distracting himself with Tanya, so she is trying to leave him and get on with her life. Let us see if she manages to get away, shall we? Happy reading, darlings :)**

**11 ~ History**

"…**Oooh Romeo is bleeding to death  
To see a friend bleed to death, what for  
Some kind of metaphor that I can't see?  
So I'll drink until I see it.**

This sky will make me sick  
So I'll give up on you  
I'll give up on this  
This sky will make me sick  
So I'll give up on this  
I'll give up on you

Archers in your arches  
Raise your fingers for one last salute  
And bleed this skyline dry  
Your history is mine

So you want to hold me up and bring me down  
Yes, you want to hold me up and break me down  
I don't care for your sweet scent…**"**

_**History **_**by Funeral for a Friend**

**Tuesday, October 4**

_**Conner's POV**_

Bits and pieces of information were all falling together now. The most obvious part of Layla's story, or should I say Bella's story since that's what everyone except for me seemed to be calling her, was that at some point in the past, she had been in a relationship with Edward. And at some point during that relationship, he had left her and neither of them seemed happy about it. And I was downright livid at him, first because he had been fortunate enough to be in a relationship with her at all and second because he had left her alone after getting her pregnant.

The fact that she was pregnant with his child was something else, I had to admit, I really did not like. But I could get past that, as long as the pregnancy was safe for Layla. After all, vampire-human babies weren't exactly commonplace and who knows what the child could do to her. If I hadn't already been angry with him for throwing me out a window, I would have hated Edward anyway for hurting her as he so obviously had. I desperately wanted to punch him again for causing her pain—I couldn't wait to see the look on his asshole face when I returned his violent assaults—but I knew it would only upset her so I decided to put that task off for another day. Like tomorrow. Tomorrow would be good.

Now I understood why she hadn't wanted to come here and I wished, for her sake, that she had just stayed in the parked car. True, Edward and I might still be rolling around smashing into things if she hadn't been here to beg us to stop, but at least she wouldn't be hurting. I would take a thousand punches from the strongest of my kind if it would just remove the wounded expression from her face. Because I hated seeing it there and knowing that nothing I did could make it go away.

She still loved him—add another thing to the growing list of newly acquired information that I did not like—despite everything he appeared to have done that had brought her to this point of distress. Her unconditional love for him was almost as clear in her every feature as was the sadness. I wished I could hold her and wipe her pain away and tell her that he wasn't worth a single teardrop, that she should give her love to someone who would cherish it and cherish _her_.

But I couldn't. Not now and, certainly, not here. But eventually, when we got away from here, I was going to spend my every moment trying to make sure she got what she deserved. I was going to try to learn everything I could about her and help her in every way that was possible. And that included making sure she was no longer subjected to torturous moments with Edward. I would be to her whatever she needed me to be and maybe, someday, I would see her look at me the way she had looked at him—without all the pain and sadness mixed in, of course.

For now, I would just support her, stand beside her as she and Edward discussed their child, because it was one topic that, at the moment, I recognized as not being my business. I didn't dare leave her alone with him for the talk because she had been trying so hard to hold herself together since the moment she arrived here and it was obvious she was teetering on the brink of a meltdown because of the impending conversation. If the situation started to get out of hand and he started acting like an asshole again though, I was going to make it my business. In the very least, as her doctor, it kind of _was_ my concern to make sure she wasn't placed under any more stress than she already had been because it wasn't good for her or the baby.

I turned with her, my arm still wrapped snugly around her shoulders and met his eyes, daring him with my own to give me just one reason to destroy him. Because as I felt her body shudder under his gaze and her lips trembled as the tears continued to run like salty raindrops down her frozen cheeks, protecting her became the primary purpose of my existence and destroying him was what I very much wanted to do in order to make sure she was sheltered from harm.

_**Alice's POV**_

__At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. They had to be; there just was no logical explanation for a blonde-haired Bella to be standing right in front of us when I had clearly seen her jump off that cliff in La Push. My mind filled with thousands of questions as I approached her, but I decided they could wait. There would be plenty of time to have a lengthy conversation with my human sister later to discern the hows and whys of everything about this crazy situation. There was only one thing that I needed to do right now and that was wrap Bella in my arms and welcome her back to where she belonged.

I ran over to her, ignoring the statue that was Edward for the time being because it was hardly my fault if he didn't have the common sense to welcome her back properly. I made a mental note to have a conversation with him about that later; had he lost his mind, after all? He should be hugging her, kissing her, loving her, begging her to forgive him for his stupidity. Instead he was just standing there, staring at—oh.

That might be the reason. Conner had his arm wrapped around Bella's shoulders and Bella seemed to be very comfortable there. He seemed very protective of her. It was annoying. Who did he think he was, anyway? And what was going on here? I knew Bella loved my brother, I knew she was deeply hurt when we left, but couldn't she see how much she meant to him? Why wasn't she wrapped in Edward's desperate arms instead of Conner's invading ones? Bella and I were _definitely _going to have a very _long_ talk about this. After I hugged her and thoroughly convinced myself that she was truly here. I didn't hesitate as I pulled her from Conner's tight grasp and wrapped her in my arms. The intrusive vampire momentarily broke his eyeball war with my brother to glare at me as I pulled Bella away from him, but I didn't care. She was _my_ family, not his.

I noticed when my arms didn't touch behind her that Bella's stomach had grown considerably since we had left and it filled me with both confusion and joy. Confusion because, although I was certainly no doctor, I was fairly certain that babies didn't grow that fast and joy because she truly was pregnant! My brother was going to be a father! I was going to be an aunt! I couldn't help but grin. There were so many things we needed to do to prepare. We had to build a nursery and go shopping and have a baby shower and—

Something was not right. I was hugging Bella with as much strength as I could without hurting her and she was just—motionless. Her arms hung at her sides, her shoulders sagged, and as I backed away, kissed her cheek softly and whispered that we missed her, her eyes shut tightly and the only sounds she made were soft whimpers. "Bella?" I said quietly, and her eyes met mine for the briefest moment. It was like seeing her for the first time because she was so different from the girl I had known. She was so—damaged and fragile. In the few weeks we had been separated, she had changed dramatically, and none of it had been for the better.

In my mind, I had seen how she would fall apart, how she would hurt, but it had never been as bad as this. If I had known how much our absence would break her, Edward's stubbornness be damned, I never would have left her. I found myself staring at her as Conner pulled her back to his side and she leaned toward him, hiding her crying eyes from my view, only my eyes weren't looking directly at her.

Instead, they were searching for her, like they had been so often in days past, desperate to find some evidence of the happy ending she deserved. But it was the same as before. Bella was here, standing in front of me, living and breathing. And yet she was still gone. Her future had disappeared and, once again, nothing was certain. I backed away from her and stood next to my brother, linking my arm in his, trying to give him encouragement that I didn't truly feel.

This was not how it was supposed to be. Bella's reemergence should have fixed us, should have made us happy and hopeful. But we were not. We were still as lost now as we had been when we thought she had died. And I still felt useless.

_**Edward's POV**_

I wanted to kill him. No, it was almost as though I _needed_ it. He was no longer trying to hide his thoughts from me and I heard what his intentions were. It was bad enough that he thought he loved her, that he was imagining what it would be like to be with her and kiss her and touch her. But then I heard his plan to keep her away from me and I growled at him and stepped forward. But my feet stopped in their tracks as my Bella, who had never once backed away in fear of me, retreated even closer to Conner's side.

The pieces of my heart were ripped into even smaller shreds as she chose to cling to him instead of me. I realized in an instant how much damage I had done. I had left her to keep her safe; I had wanted her to live a normal life away from the dangers of my kind. It had nearly killed me to walk away from her, to lie to her, to try to convince her that I no longer wanted her. But I did it because I wanted her to be safe. And everything—her suffering, my pain, the lies, the heartbreak—it had all been for nothing.

Because here she was, carrying my child, so beautiful and shattered, clinging to someone possibly more dangerous than I ever could have been. I could see in his thoughts that he didn't love her enough to do anything necessary to keep her safe; he didn't love her even remotely as much as I did, if he even loved her at all. But then I realized that I really was no different from him. I may have loved her enough to walk away from her but I hadn't really left her. The evidence of that was right in front of my eyes as I glanced at her swollen stomach.

I had to make this right. I had to convince her of what she meant to me. I had to make things right. I had to hug her again, kiss her again, and feel her warm skin again. I had to know what it was like to feel and kiss her stomach as our child grew within it. I had to fix this mess I had made. If I didn't, if I failed, my life would be over. I didn't need to see a vision from Alice to know that much. His evil voice broke through my thoughts.

"Layla, if you two are going to talk, we should probably all go inside. You'll catch your death of cold out here. And you should probably eat something." He rubbed his offending hand up and down her arm as if the friction from his frozen fingers would somehow warm her, and I wanted to rip his limb from its socket. But he was right, I couldn't deny that. She was still a human and the iced Alaskan air that felt like little more than a cool breeze to the undead was probably numbing her to the core.

_I _should have been the one to realize that. _I _should have been the one making sure she was taken care of. There were a lot of things that I should be doing, but I wasn't. I was immobile, terrified that something I said or did would make her run away from me. I inhaled deeply and prepared myself to overcome the gripping fear. I was on the verge of losing her, and I wasn't going to give her up without a fight. If it took me all the rest of my days, she would realize that I had never stopped loving her, wanting her. We would be together again. I would make this right.

I followed her and Conner into the house with as much patience as I possessed, thinking about all the things I would do to convince her. I tried to block out the thoughts of the many people surrounding us so that I could concentrate completely, but before I could fully bar them all from my mind, I heard a soft voice in my head. I searched around for its owner and my eyes fell upon the fair-haired woman who was nervously staring after my Bella. She seemed on the verge of saying something, but her obvious uncertainty caused her to remain silent. I searched for her mind's voice again and that's when her thoughts paralyzed me where I stood in the doorway to the dining room.

_Poor child, the baby is going to kill her. Edward will be heartbroken._

_**Bella's POV**_

I wondered at what point in time my luck had turned from good to bad. I had thought I was running on a streak of good; after all, I had located the Denali vampires, and I had at least one of them willing to help me. And he was a doctor. Things seemed to be working out perfectly according to plan. And then came the bad luck: the Cullens were in Alaska. And I had actually thought I could handle a reunion with them. If I weren't afraid I'd fall on my butt by doing so, I would kick myself for being so ridiculously naive. In the past weeks I had come to learn what I could and could not handle, and _this—_Edward not caring and seeing him with someone else—was definitely something I could _not_ handle.

I was also having a difficult time with Alice hugging me like nothing had changed when so much had. It felt so good to be wrapped up in her arms, but I couldn't bring myself to hug her back because I was afraid that I would use all of the human strength I possessed to never let her go. I was afraid of realizing how much I had missed more than just Edward, of reliving the pain I had gone through when I lost my newly acquired family. And most of all, I was afraid of losing control and running to Edward and of having him reject me again. I just couldn't do it. So I stood there motionless and let her hug me. And then, when she backed away, when I physically felt her loss, I let Conner pull me to him and I allowed myself cry.

For a moment, I had stupidly hoped that Edward would know nothing about my pregnancy and that I would be able to escape from him and _his_ family and this entire hellish situation until I reached a point in my life where I was emotionally capable of being in their presence. If that point ever came, that is, and I wasn't so sure that it would. But seeing Alice again reminded me of what I should have already known: she would have seen this coming. Edward knew all about our baby, probably even more than I did, and that was extremely frustrating. When he spoke as I turned to leave, asking me about our child, I wanted so badly to tell him how scared I was. I wanted to tell him that I needed him to help me get through this because I didn't want to raise our baby on my own. I wanted to ask him for answers to all the questions that seemed to infiltrate the very fabric of my life.

And so, the inward battle waged on, only now it wasn't about my child or my priorities; it was about my strength and whether or not the walls I had built up around my heart to keep myself from getting hurt again would crumble in Edward's presence. Stone by stone, the blockade disintegrated. I was mere milliseconds away from speaking to Edward when Conner voiced his concerns about the frigid air and my empty stomach. I realized then that I _was _cold and hungry, and my intelligent brain finally voiced its opinion and convinced me that I would be much better suited to carry out a potentially difficult conversation with a warm body and a full stomach.

I walked into the house and toward the dining room, which was where everyone seemed to be congregating. Conner pulled out a chair and I sighed as I seated myself; it felt so wonderful to be off of my feet. I couldn't help my eyes from drifting to Edward as he appeared in the doorway. At first, he was staring at me, a determined expression on his face, and then his eyes darted across the room and mine followed their path. I almost wished they hadn't when my vision was filled with the sight of yet another beautiful Denali vampire. This one was even more pale-skinned than the rest of them, if that were at all possible, and her hair was long and straight and the color of corn silk. Would it be too much to ask for at least one vampire I met to not be stunningly beautiful? Seriously. I was surprised when I noticed that her eyes were glued to me, her expression strangely sad, so I looked away, back to Edward.

He looked frightened and when he spoke, his musical voice broke uncharacteristically. "Kate, why do you think that? What do you know?" Fabulous. We were back to the cryptic-speak where Edward has a single-sided conversation with people's thoughts. I never really was a fan of that, of being clueless and in the dark. Then again, he had never really been pleased that he was in the dark when it came to my thoughts, so perhaps we were slightly even. I was once again grateful that my thoughts were muted because Edward's gift did not reach me. It would have been embarrassing if he knew how much I still wanted to be with him.

I rested my hand on my stomach and Conner's cool fingers fell over mine and gently, reassuringly squeezed. I heard a low hiss that I knew came from Edward at Conner's actions—or, perhaps, his thoughts—and it almost made me happy to know that Edward was irritated by Conner's hand resting on mine and my swollen belly. I couldn't understand why it mattered so much to him; after all, he had left me behind without a care in the world as to how it would affect me. He deserved to suffer a little bit; he deserved to know just a fraction of what I had been feeling for the past few weeks. So, against my better judgment, I let Conner's hand stay where it was.

Edward took the seat on the other side of me and stared across the table at the beautiful blonde vampire. I looked up at her when she spoke, her voice carrying only the hint of a British accent. "I only know of one other instance where a human girl carried the child of a vampire." She had my full attention. I had wanted answers and, thankfully, she seemed able to give them. Perhaps my luck was turning again. Perhaps I would be able to find out the answers to all of my burning questions from this infuriatingly beautiful creature. I studied her face and saw the pain in her eyes before she continued to speak. Whatever she was about to share was not a happy tale and I realized that my luck had, indeed, taken a turn. But it was for the worse.

All eyes were on her as she continued, "It was nearly 200 years ago, before I was turned. Her name was Rebecca, and she was my sister." Her pained eyes left mine and she stared at the shiny tabletop. "She was three years older than I and when I was sixteen, she told me that she had fallen in love. I was young and foolish and still filled with the ideas of romance and fairy tale love stories, so I eagerly listened to her accounts of secret trysts and innocent kisses. She spoke of the man she loved as if he were a god, as if her world revolved around him and him alone. In the beginning, I envied her for that." She paused briefly and snickered, which indicated to me that the idea of envying her sister was something she now considered preposterous, and then she resumed her story.

"One night, Becca confided in me that her mysterious sweetheart was everything she'd ever dreamed of and that he had asked her to go away with him and elope. I was worried for her, and more than a little curious about the man I had never met, but she seemed so blissfully happy that I pushed my doubts aside and helped her with her plans to run away. I asked her once to stay, to convince our parents that love should be more important than money because I didn't know what I was going to do without her. But she just laughed and chided me for being immature enough to think that Mother and Father would approve of their daughters marrying any man that didn't have a significant bank account and a rising social stature. I should have tried harder to convince her to stay, but hindsight always makes things seem so simple, doesn't it?"

It was eerie how easily I could see myself in Becca's shoes. I knew exactly what it was like to be so in love that I would defy the laws of society, even of nature, to be with the man who had stolen my heart. To love someone so much that I would give up my family, my home, everything I had ever known just to be near him. I wondered briefly if Becca's Romeo had actually loved her back as I snuck a glance at Edward. His eyes were fixated on Kate. Of course they would be. Why would he want to look at ordinary old me when he had a plethora of Greek goddesses surrounding him? I bitterly sighed and Conner squeezed my hand, earning another low hiss from Edward. He either had exceptional peripheral vision or his eaves-dropping in Conner's mind was giving him bothersome information.

I didn't have time to further speculate about that because Kate continued, "She left one night in mid-October, promising that she would write in a few days when they settled down somewhere, promising that someday she would return and visit. Weeks passed but no letters came. I started to worry. My parents spent thousands of dollars searching for her, but it was as if she had literally disappeared. And then one night in late November, while my parents were on a weekend holiday in London, I heard a crying sound outside of my window. I looked through the downpour to the front lawn and Becca was there. I ran to her, thanking God that she was alive and home where she belonged. I wrapped her in my arms, and that's when I noticed her stomach. She was with child and from the looks of her, it would be mere days before baby was born. My mind wasn't given time to contemplate the subconscious realization that babies simply did not grow that fast because she let out a gut-wrenching scream and fell to the ground." The silence in the room as Kate narrated the account of her human life was palpable. It was an uncomfortable type of quiet, the type you experience when everyone around you is holding their breath in anxious anticipation of an important revelation. I wasn't so sure I was ready to hear whatever was coming, but Kate's soft voice spoke anyway.

"I immediately sent our maidservant to fetch the doctor as I hobbled with Becca into our house and somehow managed to seat her on her old bed. I started removing her wet clothing, and when I had stripped her down to her skin, I was further convinced that something was amiss with her pregnancy. Her bulging stomach was speckled with bruises of nearly every color, but even with the discoloration, her stomach was the only part of her that looked somewhat healthy. Every other part of her body was nothing but skin and bone. It was as if the baby was stealing everything from her, growing stronger as Becca weakened." I didn't have to search the room to feel how everyone's eyes looked me over, comparing me to the story. No doubt they were noticing my sunken skin, my unhealthy appearance. But what did they expect from a girl who had been through everything that I had in the past few weeks?_ I_ would be concerned if I looked healthy as a horse after dealing with several painful life changes in such a short time. It was _normal_ to look a little haggard when your world had fallen apart.

Kate continued while everyone stared at me, "I prayed that the doctor would arrive, that he would be able to help her, save her. I had a few coherent minutes with her as we waited, a few too-short moments where I fussed with the blankets and the cool cloth that I dabbed on her forehead to help with the fever. I listened to her weakened voice as she told the first of many enlightening truths about the world we live in. The final words exchanged between me and my dearly loved sister were those in which I learned that every fairy tale has a monster and, sometimes, the monsters come in clever disguises. She whispered to me about the man she had married, about how he was different, how he was not human. At first, I thought she was delirious, but somewhere deep inside, I think I always knew she was speaking the truth. I didn't get the opportunity to learn much about him at that time because she cried out again and then I saw the blood that was soaking through the thick layer of blankets.

I ripped the covers off of her body and did the best I could to help her with the delivery. But I was not a doctor and I didn't know what to do or how to control the bleeding. The baby was born just one hour after my sister had come back into my life. It was a boy. I wrapped the child up and placed him in my sister's arms. She looked down at him, smiled weakly and spoke his name. Then she looked at me, but her eyes were unfocused. She was slipping away, and I was powerless to keep her from fading. Two minutes after the birth, she was gone."

I took a deep breath and watched as Kate's body shook with silent, tearless sobs. I wasn't sure I was ready to digest the information she had provided. I tried to separate the emotional magnitude of the story from the cold, hard facts that I needed to process. Once I managed to do that, I had deduced the following: the baby would be born much sooner than I had anticipated, it was going to be a painful, unpleasant experience, and there was a chance I would die. I tried to stay composed. I had calmly rationalized my death before; I would just have to do it again. But I still had questions. What had become of Becca's child? Did he live? What was he like? I needed to know. The necessity forced the words from my mouth. "Kate, what happened to the baby?" Her eyes lifted to meet mine and I tried to focus on her face and only her face as the table full of vampires stared at me.

Her eyes brightened for a brief instant as she spoke of the child. "He was perfect. Beautiful. The doctor arrived about twenty minutes after Becca had—passed; I remember him walking into the room and gasping and then—nothing. The next couple of days went by in somewhat of a blur save for one thing—Becca's son. I took it upon myself to care for him because he was a part of my sister and that made him precious." Her eyes darkened again as did her story. "But my time with my nephew was short-lived. About a week after he was born, a stranger arrived at our home. I went to check on Nicholas—my nephew—in the middle of the night and the man was standing by the cradle. Part of me instinctively knew I should run, but my drive to protect my nephew overpowered my fear. I asked the stranger what he was doing in my home and the last thing I remember before the excruciating burning was the sight of him lunging toward me.

After my change, I was alone and scared and confused. I knew that I was different, dangerous, but I also still clearly remembered bits of my human life. The memories were enough to steer me toward the "vegetarian" life. And, once I was more settled into this strange type of existence, I allowed myself to check on my family. I needed to know what had happened to them after the stranger attacked me. In the middle of the night, I slipped into my old house and found my parents sleeping in their bedroom. They seemed safe, so I moved on to the nursery. But it was gone. The room was empty, forgotten, painful. It was as if the child had never existed. But the clarity of his image in my mind was enough to quash any doubts about my memory. He _had _existed. And I had loved him. But as for what became of him, I'm sorry, Bella, I don't know. I have asked myself that question every day since my visit to my human home. But I just don't know."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Kate had given me so much information, but I still knew far too little. All I had to hold onto now was hope. Hope that I could endure this pregnancy. Hope that the baby would be healthy and perfect. Hope that I would live long enough to know him. I pictured him just then, a miniature Edward with green eyes and unruly bronze hair. Perfection. I already loved him more than I could have ever imagined, and I hadn't even met him yet. I knew that whatever happened to me, just seeing him, holding him would make it all worthwhile. I risked a glance at Edward and my heart melted slightly at the distraught look in his eyes.

But his strained words froze it right back up again. "Bella, you can't have this baby."

_**Edward's POV**_

I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I knew, if I had been smart, I would have allowed myself to relax a little bit before speaking to her. But I also knew that after what I had seen in Kate's mind as she relayed the story of her sister, after I had imagined seeing Bella in the same situation, that there would be no calm for me until Bella was no longer in danger. I could not bear that reality. I could not lose her all over again. I was still recovering from the sense of loss I had felt when I thought she had died a week ago. I was still having a hard time convincing myself that she was actually here and not just a figment of my deranged imagination. But I knew she was real, I knew she was here, because my imagination was just not that cruel. If I had imagined her, she would be healthy and happy and we would be together. She would _not_ have Conner's hand resting on her swollen stomach—I was barely resisting the urge to crush that hand—and she would _not _be in danger of dying because of our child.

I never thought I could feel guiltier than I had when I heard Charlie speak of Bella dying. But I discovered moments ago that I could. Right now, my remorse was tangible, crushing me as I sat in the dining room staring at the love of my life and internally castigating myself for placing her in yet another dangerous situation. It wasn't enough that she was in constant danger whenever she was around me because of what I was. Now, she was in danger because I had lost control and given in to the temptation of physically loving her. Now she was in danger from our child—and I was momentarily torn between my love for her and the newly unrepressed desire for children. But there was no question which I would choose. Bella would always be the most important thing in my life. I did not need anything or anyone else as long as I had her.

The words were out and I could not take them back. I cringed as I saw the flash of hurt in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared and was replaced with something else: rage. In an almost inhumanly fast motion, she stood from the table and slapped me clear across the face. Hard. I felt shock but no physical pain, and then my guilt intensified when she cried out and grabbed her hand. Would I ever stop hurting her? Both Conner and Carlisle moved to look at her hand, but she halted them.

"Don't. I'm fine," she said through clenched teeth, looking at both of them pointedly before returning her gaze to me. She scowled and practically hissed at me. "You will NOT tell me what I will or will not do. Ever. You lost the right to have an opinion when you decided that you would rather _distract_ yourself elsewhere than pretend to be in love with me."

When she glanced at Tanya as she said the word "distract", her reaction to me outside made a little more sense. Tanya had been holding my hand. I was so astounded by Bella's arrival that I hadn't even noticed Tanya's approach. Bella must think that Tanya and I—this was not good. I had to end any misconceptions she had about _that_ right now. "Bella, it's not—"

"I wasn't finished," she stated heatedly, cutting off my explanation. "I loved you. I gave you everything and you just left me like nothing we shared mattered! Did it mean anything to you, Edward? Did you ever even love me at all? Did you ever think of how losing you would affect me?" I opened my mouth to speak, to answer her questions and profess my undying love to her, but she didn't give me the opportunity. "You know what? It doesn't even matter anymore. You shattered my heart into a million pieces, but the love I feel for our child put it back together again. You have taken everything else from me; you will NOT take this." She looked away, releasing me from her infuriated stare. "I want to go," she said and Conner stood up and grabbed her uninjured hand, leading her away.

"Bella, please," I begged, frenzied by her words and the idea that she was trying to leave again. She had to know that I loved her. She had to know how much she meant to me. She just couldn't go. She was walking toward the door and I followed her. Our audience remained in the dining room. "Don't leave. I love you. I always have. That's why I said what I did about the baby. I can't lose you again. I just couldn't—"

She turned to me then, her features cold and unyielding. "You don't have to lie anymore, Edward. You never wanted me, you don't want our child and I don't—" She inhaled sharply, swallowed the lump in her throat and looked down at the floor as she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She was a horrible liar; she knew it and I knew it but she was going to try anyway. She looked up at me and there were tears in her eyes. "And I don't want you, Edward."

I couldn't stand it. I was causing her so much pain. I would never be good for her; I had never deserved her in the first place. But I wanted her. I needed her. I loved her more than I thought it would ever be possible to love someone. And despite her feeble attempt to declare otherwise, I knew she still loved me. I couldn't let her walk out of my life. One of us making that mistake was more than enough. If she wouldn't listen to my words, I would just have to convince her some other way.

Once again, I did not think, I simply acted. Only this time, I hoped, I had gotten it right. She was heading out the door with Conner and I wasn't going to let her go. I spun her around and pulled her close with one arm, taking care to avoid her damaged fist. I gently placed my other hand behind her neck and then, before she could protest, I lowered my head until my lips tenderly met hers. I held on to her gently, but tightly, because my life depended on it. I poured every emotion I had into this one kiss because I needed her to understand. I needed her to realize that I had always and would always love her. I needed her to know that I didn't possess the strength to ever live without her. I needed this kiss to tell her all the things that my foolish voice couldn't.

For a moment, the world was small and beautiful. The warmth of her body was heaven; the taste of her lips was the ultimate pleasure. There were no problems, there was no past and no future and no worry and no hurt. There was only Bella and me, and everything was perfect. But reality intruded on my euphoric state when I felt Bella's lips slip away from mine, and all I could do was wait for her to respond. The fragile girl standing in front of me was my entire universe and I could only stare into her eyes and hope that now she knew it.


	12. WHITE HORSE

**Let's see…last chapter we learned from Kate, whose sister was pregnant with a vampire offspring centuries ago, that the baby very well may kill Bella. Bella accepts this, and Edward does not. He tells her that she can't have the baby, because he is fearful of her death, and she tells him to go fly a kite because he lost the right to have an opinion when he left her. He is desperate to convince her that he loves her so he spins her around and gives her a smooch. And none of us are quite sure how she is going to react. Let's find out and also hear a little more from that evil one that is plotting all types of nastiness :)**

**12 ~ White Horse**

"**Say you're sorry  
That face of an angel  
Comes out just when you need it to  
As I paced back and forth all this time  
Cause I honestly believed in you  
Holding on  
The days drag on  
Stupid girl,  
I should have known, I should have known…  
Baby I was naive,  
Got lost in your eyes  
And never really had a chance  
My mistake, I didn't know to be in love  
You had to fight to have the upper hand  
I had so many dreams  
About you and me  
Happy endings  
Now I know  
I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale  
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet,  
Lead her up the stairwell  
This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town,  
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down  
Now it's too late for you  
And your white horse, to come around  
And there you are on your knees,  
Begging for forgiveness, begging for me  
Just like I always wanted but I'm so sorry  
Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale  
I'm gonna find someone someday who might actually treat me well  
This is a big world, that was a small town  
There in my rearview mirror disappearing now  
And it's too late for you and your white horse  
Now it's too late for you and your white horse, to catch me now"**

_**White Horse **_**by Taylor Swift**

**Tuesday, October 4**

_**Victoria's POV**_

Shit, shit, shit. Of all the times for Edward to grow a pair, stop all of his useless talking and start acting, it had to be now. Of course it had to be now. Dammit, this was just my luck.

I watched through the window in earnest from my new lookout branch near the edge of the forest as the front door to the house opened, and Isabella _almost_ made it outside. If I weren't worried about getting caught up here, I would have jumped up and down in anticipation when I heard that the human girl was developing her newly acquired backbone quite nicely and telling Edward, in her own pitiful way, to piss off. If she managed to get away and go off somewhere with Conner, my plans would be set into motion and maybe, just maybe this world would be rid of one more superfluous human before the end of the day. I _almost _admired the human girl; for all her weaknesses, she certainly had spunk. It was just too bad that I was going to kill her. Actually, no, no it wasn't that bad.

I smiled menacingly and was about to leave my perch when I saw Edward swoop in and kiss her. My cheerful mood soured immediately. I scowled as I waited for her to react to his last ditch effort to keep her from leaving. I hoped she wasn't lenient enough to give in to him now. I needed her to leave Edward and the rest of this bizarre vampire coven behind or I would potentially lose my best opportunity to carry out my vendetta against James' murderer.

I had overheard the story that was told in the house moments ago; I knew there was a chance that the baby growing inside the human girl might kill her before I had the chance and that was simply unacceptable. I needed to be the one to end her life. I needed her to die by my hands so that I could have closure over James' death. I needed to see the look on Edward's face when he realized that payback's a bitch. I needed to watch him crumble.

I had a smaller timeframe to work with now, a few weeks tops, and I had never been one for procrastinating. The desire to see this plan through to Isabella's end was a physical _need_ now; it was almost as strong as the burning thirst for blood in the back of my throat. One way or the other, I was going to kill this girl. All I had to do now was watch and wait. The next few minutes would not seal her fate; her death was already imminent and inescapable. The only thing these moments would decide was whether or not the pleasure of ending her life was going to be effortless or immensely challenging.

_**Alice's POV**_

There was only one thing running through my mind right now: when the hell did I become the Alice who fell down the rabbit hole into a world that made absolutely no sense? There may not be any talking flowers or stoner caterpillars or cookies that turned people into giants, but everything about this world I found myself in was mind boggling. It was as if every person around me had completely lost his mind.

I sighed and then felt a gentle squeeze of my hand. Poor Jasper. I looked at my husband and felt a surge of sympathy. This was certainly the worst time in the history of the world to be an empath. If I had to deal with all of the feelings being crammed into this tiny space, I was pretty sure I would have gone stark raving mad by now. He seemed to be holding himself together fairly well, all things considered, but I knew if this kept up, he was going to crack. I could not let that happen.

Alright—deep, unnecessary breaths—I needed to relax and figure this out. I decided to start with what I knew. Edward loved Bella. Bella loved Edward. Somehow, at some point, Bella had managed to overpower Edward's prudish oath that he never lose control with her physically. Chalk one up for Bella. Then Edward had made the horrid mistake of leaving her in order to protect her. But the idiot hadn't shared his noble intentions with her before we left. He had thoroughly convinced her that he didn't love her instead, and he must have laid it on pretty thick for her to have actually believed him. If he weren't dealing with a major life crisis right now, I would smack him upside the head for implying that he would be "distracting" himself with other females. No wonder she had been so crushed. No wonder she wasn't very eager to run into his arms when they were reunited. He was a moronic ass. But he was still my brother. And she was still my sister. And since no one else seemed capable at the moment, I still had to figure out how to fix this.

Okay, back to the facts. Bella and Edward were going to have a baby. That baby may or may not kill Bella. And because it might kill her, true to his tremendously stupid, over-protective form, Edward had just told her that he didn't want her to have the child. I would have slapped him, too. Unfortunately, that had just added to Bella's misapprehension that Edward didn't love her and now she was trying to leave again. With Conner, who very obviously wanted Bella. And then we have Tanya, who very obviously wants Edward. There. I think I got everything.

And now that it was straightened out in my head, I needed to work on straightening this chaotic disaster out in real life. Good, Edward may have just gotten things headed in the right direction by muting his voice and putting his lips to good use kissing Bella. Then again, she might very well still hit him when he stops rendering her senseless. We shall have to see.

But one thing was for certain. Bella and Edward belonged together, and there wasn't a force in this world that was going to keep them apart. Not if I had anything to do with it anyway. And I fully intended to see to it that those two foolish lovebirds got their happy ending so this world could be stabilized. I have had enough of this trippy ride.

_**Tanya's POV**_

Edward was in love with a _human_?!?_ This_ human? This little nothing of a child was who had managed to steal his heart and cause him all this grief? He chose _her_ over _me_? He was kissing_ her_ instead of _me_? She wasn't even that pretty. If it hadn't been so obvious by his expression that he loved her, I would have thought I was delirious. It just wasn't logical, for one of our kind to actually feel something for a human. True, my sisters and I had delighted in the company of many a male human, but it was never any more than a midnight rendezvous and then we were gone. They provided the simple comfort of a warm body, but in the end, they were nothing more than a way to pass the lonely nights during which we could no longer sleep. But this—this was no temporary love affair. This ran deeper than anything I could have ever imagined. This would be very difficult to surpass.

But I was never one to give up just because I had met an obstacle. And that was exactly what this puny human was; a mere hurdle that I would have to overcome. There was no way I was going to be outdone by a human. I had been trying to sink my teeth, _quite literally_ I thought with a mental smile, into Edward for decades; I wasn't about to let a silly little romance stand between me and what I wanted. If Kate's story was any indication, Bella might not be competition for much longer anyway. I could definitely handle that.

I watched them with careful eyes. I scrutinized her every movement as she ended the kiss and backed away from him as far as he would allow, her eyes wide in shock over what had just transpired. And then I watched as her jaw set, her brow furrowed, and she drew back her arm and punched him in the stomach. I tried not to smile when she yelled out in pain. Again. Stupid human. She should have learned by now that flesh doesn't fare well against stone.

I had to admit, I was quite pleased with her reaction. She was doing all the work for me; I almost felt like I should be thanking her. I would surely play my part to try and drive this wedge between them deeper, but I could see it wouldn't take much on my end to tear them apart. They were doing quite nicely at that themselves.

One of these times when she rejected him, he was going to get the message. When that day came he was going to need comforted, and I fully intended to be there to wrap him in my arms and make all the pain go away. And maybe this time I will wrap him up in more than just my arms. Then he would see what he had been missing. One night with me and he would forget why he had been sad in the first place. I continued to watch them and waited patiently to make my move.

_**Bella's POV**_

How dare he—he can't just—what makes him think that he had any right to—after what he just said—he left—he doesn't—I can't—oh God. I missed that. I really, really missed that. He was holding me. He had just kissed me. He was looking at me now, trying to dazzle me with those beautiful golden eyes of his. My heart was racing, my breathing was rapid and for a second, the hands of time flew backward and I _almost_ let myself feel happy. I _almost_ let myself feel loved. Edward was doing everything I had been longing for him to do, which was also everything that I needed him _not_ to do if I was to have any chance of survival.

Damn him to hell! Why was he doing this to me? Why couldn't he just be honest with me and stop trying to string me along like a little puppet? What sort of sick, twisted game was he trying to play with me, anyway? Sure, he seemed like he wanted me now, but what was going to happen a week or a month or a year from now when he decided that he was tired of pretending with me and he wanted to amuse himself with more beautiful and interesting things?

I knew all too well what was going to happen: his perfect, musical voice was going to take on the weight of a grand piano and it was going to crush me with words that go something to the tune of "I don't want you" or "You're no good for me". I had already been through it once, and I refused to go through the pain of him running away again. Right now, there was a dull ache in the gaping hole his cruel words had punched through my soul. It was the antithesis of enjoyable, but it was something I could tolerate. And it was _all_ that I could tolerate.

I loved him, I always would, but right this second, I hated him, too. It was the fusion of the two emotions that caused me to lose my common sense—again—and I punched him right in his stomach. His stone-hard, sculpted, indestructible stomach. With the hand I had used to slap him about five minutes ago. I howled in pain—I was fairly certain I had just broken my hand—but my hit had its intended effect when Edward's arms went slack and I backed away from him.

"Bella I—" he started to speak and took a step toward me but I held my uninjured hand out in front of me, impeding his advances. I didn't need to hear his deceptive voice. I didn't want to listen to his lies. And I certainly didn't need to feel the electricity of his touch. Tears were pouring out of my eyes, the result of the physical pain of my hand and the emotional pain of my life.

"Edward, don't." I was pleading with him now. "Please, just stop. If you ever felt for me at all, if any part of what we had together was real, just do as I ask, and let me go. Because no matter how much I care about you, no matter how much I wish things could be different, I can't do this again. I just—can't." I looked through blurring tears into his defeated eyes, and then shook my head to clear the image of his face. But it was too late; every minute detail of his expression was burned into my memory. I recognized the expression well because I had worn it for the majority of the last two weeks. He looked like he had just had his heart ripped out of his chest, like he wanted to die.

I turned away from him and walked out the door. Each step I took toward Conner's car was a struggle. My brain was trying to convince my body to keep moving because it knew I was doing the right thing. I was following the laws of nature that mandated self-preservation. But my heart was warring with my mind for control, screaming that I needed to turn around and run right back into Edward's arms and tell him that everything I had just said was an outright lie and that I wanted to love him and be with him forever.

Eventually, I sat myself in the passenger seat, buckled my seatbelt and started bawling. My heart was silent now. It had abandoned ship and floated back to Edward. I was not his puppet, but he still had control over a part of me. I had entrusted him with my heart what felt like a lifetime ago and even after he had squished it and stomped on it and torn it into a million and one pieces, it still wanted to be with him. It still belonged to him.

I had just done the sensible thing, the right thing, and walked out on the man who had left me behind. So why did I feel like I had just made the biggest mistake of my life?

_**Edward's POV**_

__I wished that my mind reading gift would be transferable. If it were, I would give it to Bella so she could see into my thoughts and know that I was telling her the truth. So she could see that I had always been honest with her since our relationship had started, except for that one night. The night that I had decided that the best way to keep her safe was to keep her as far away from me and my kind as possible. The night that I realized that the only way she might let go of what we shared was if she thought that I didn't love her. The night that I had put my acting skills to their ultimate test and lied through my teeth to convince her she wasn't the girl of my dreams while my mind was screaming out "I love you".

She had always been skeptical about my feelings for her; she couldn't seem to get it through her beautiful, thick head that I loved her, that she was everything I had been waiting over a century to find and that I never wanted to be without her. No matter what I said or did, she was disbelieving of the truth. But when I had lied to her, when she truly should have thought twice about what I was saying—she had just eaten _that_ all up. She had believed every last despicable word.

And now I wasn't sure how I was going to convince her of what I truly felt. She wouldn't listen to anything I said, kissing her hadn't made a difference and it wasn't like I could just force her to believe something if she was dead-set against it. It didn't matter though. Somehow, I was going to get her to believe.

I started walking toward the door to follow her, but Conner—the arrogant prick—stepped in front of me, crossed his arms and glared at me like he was some sorry excuse for a bouncer trying to keep me away from the stage at a crowded concert. "Just leave her alone," he warned. As if he had any right to tell me what to do. As if he had any idea at all of what was going on between Bella and me. As if _he_ was the one who knew what was best for Bella. Every time I heard his voice, I wanted to hit something. Almost always, that something was him. I fought desperately to control my violent temper. It would certainly not help my situation with Bella if I snapped the neck of her newfound "protector".

I clenched my hands into fists and steadied them at my sides as I glared at Conner. "I will _not _leave her alone. Bella may be a little confused about my feelings toward her but that does not change the fact that I love her immeasurably. And it would be wise of you not to delude yourself into thinking that she won't someday realize that. Because even if it takes to the end of the time, I won't stop trying to convince her. And I swear to you, if you start meddling in affairs that don't concern you, I will destroy you." He huffed at me and thought _I'd like to see you try_.

Instinctively, I responded to his thoughts. "Oh, trust me, Conner, I would love nothing more than to try. I would take great pleasure in tearing you apart." His eyes widened a little bit and then I could almost see the light bulb go off above his head. He had finally realized his thoughts were not a secret around me.

After the realization sunk in, he smiled smugly and continued our conversation in his mind. _I don't doubt it. But know this: the feeling is mutual. And I will gladly fight for her affections. If her actions are any indication, it shouldn't be that difficult to best you. You should really stop kidding yourself and face the facts, Edward. You screwed up. I mean, you left her when she was pregnant. That's fucked up even by lowlife standards. And no one is_ that _forgiving. But don't worry. I'll enjoy taking care of her and the little kicker for you. _An image of Conner and Bella flashed into my mind. He was standing behind her, resting his head on her shoulder, and wrapping his arms tightly around her waist as they gazed down into a crib at an angel-faced child. Bella was smiling widely at the infant. It was merely a fantasy on his part, but my jealousy and rage over the idea of that future was enough to make me lunge at the man I hated almost as fiercely as I loved Bella.

A strong grip on my arm jerked me back into place, and I heard my father's voice. "Edward, calm down. I know you don't want to let her go, but perhaps it will give her time to clear her head if you give her some space." I glared at him. I didn't want to admit that he was right, even though I knew that he had made a good point, because I didn't want to spend one more second without Bella. But I also knew that she wasn't going to be persuaded into believing me right now. She had taken in a lot today, we all had, and she needed time to think it all over.

My shoulders slumped in temporary defeat, but then I straightened up and hardened my face. I spat out my next words as I addressed Conner. "Fine. I'll let her go. For now. But this is far from over. I _will_ fight for her. And if anything happens to her while she is in your care, I will personally make sure your death is slow and agonizing."

_Let the games begin_ he thought and then he turned and was beside his car in less than a second. He was a fool. This was not a game. Bella was not a prize. She was a gift, she was an angel, and she was _mine_. He didn't stand a chance.

I hated watching her leave with him. I waited, hoping that she would look at me, needing to see her face again. She did look up, just once, but her timing was impeccable. Or should I say, Tanya's was. Just as I caught Bella's eyes, I felt someone's arm wind itself around mine, catching me off guard, somehow, because I hadn't heard anyone—mind or body—approaching me. I glanced to my side and saw Tanya smiling coyly as she looked outside. I glared at her and shook her arm off of mine.

I looked out the door again, but it was too late; Conner's car was already well out of sight. I couldn't be sure if Bella had seen Tanya's advances, but I thought it safe to assume that she had because of the look of satisfaction that now lighted Tanya's face. Apparently, Conner wasn't alone in his quest to keep Bella and me apart. Fabulous. Was the whole world against us now?

I tried to be calm when I spoke to the scheming vampire vixen that stood before me, but I failed miserably. I practically yelled at her. "Tanya, whatever you are planning, stop it. I know exactly what you are up to and it won't work. I love _Bella_. I will _never_ love you as much as I love her. And if you don't stay the hell away from me and stop trying to cause more of a rift between her and me, I will find it extremely difficult to treat you like a longtime friend instead of an enemy." Her smile faded and she retreated to the back of the house. Good riddance. I didn't care if this was her home. I wasn't going to put up with her manipulative games.

I once again stared out the front door to the spot where I had last seen Bella as I started thinking about what I was going to do. One thing was for certain: I was back to square one and it was going to take a miracle to win back the love of my life. But miracles happen. After all, Bella had fallen in love with me in the first place. And if that wasn't a miracle, I didn't know what was.

_**Conner's POV**_

This was going to be a very long drive. We had left Tanya's house about ten minutes ago, meaning we still had at least an hour to go, and so far the only sounds inside my car were of Layla's intermittent sniffling. I found myself continuously casting glances in her direction, to the point where it very well may become a permanent tick, but I couldn't help checking on her every few seconds to see if there would ever be a point when her tears would stop.

It felt as though the majority of the time I had known her, she had been in tears and they were all ultimately caused by Edward and his assholedness. To be fair, I didn't know the whole story, but I couldn't imagine anything that this fragile human could have done to warrant this amount of suffering. And I didn't really feel like he deserved the benefit of fairness, so I freely placed all blame for her situation, and her tears, on him. In my opinion, he would be getting exactly what he deserved if she didn't take him back. And I would be getting exactly what I wanted.

I glanced at her again and noticed, to my almost delight, that Layla's cheeks were finally dry. Maybe now I could figure out how to start talking to her. At first I was going to ask her if she was okay, but she quite observably was not so there was no point in talking about the obvious. Then I was going to ask her if she wanted to talk about it, but I vetoed that idea, too, because I figured if she wanted to talk, she would and I didn't want to seem like I was pushing her for information. Even if I really wanted to.

I was wracking my brain, in between the sideward glances, to try to figure out what to say when I suddenly realized she had turned her attention to me and, surprisingly, she spoke up. "Conner? Who are you?"

The question caught me completely off guard. I had no idea what she meant by it. "I'm sorry, what?" I asked, trying to determine if the mysteriousness of this woman would ever fade away. I smiled at her and furrowed my brow to illustrate my confusion over her question.

"Well, I'm tired of thinking about my life. It pretty much sucks right now. But no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to stop. So I need a distraction." I didn't miss the bitter tone of her last word. She had used it a number of times throughout the day, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with Edward being a jackass. She continued, "I thought maybe you could help take my mind off of _me_ if you told me about _you_. So—tell me, Conner. Who are you?"

"That's a pretty broad question, Lay—Okay, wait. Can I ask you one thing before we start in about me? What should I call you? I seem to be the only one who knows you by Layla. Should I call you Bella, instead?" I really wanted to ask why she changed her name in the first place, but I needed to keep my curiosity in check for the time being. I had thought it was a relatively simple question, but the set of her jaw and the awkwardly long pause that occurred after I asked it made me realize that it may have been a little more complicated than I had assumed. I was about to tell her to forget that I had asked, that it wasn't important even though, to me, it really was, when she gave me my answer.

"Call me Layla. I came here to start over. Things didn't go exactly according to plan since I got here, but the present doesn't change the past. The girl I used to be is gone. I'm not Bella anymore." She looked out the window and I sensed that the tears were going to make another appearance.

So I did my best to distract her. "Well, what do you want to know about me? Sorry, but your question was kind of vague and I doubt you want to hear about my entire history." I smiled, trying to keep things light, trying to help her forget.

"Well, how old are you? When were you changed? Why did you choose the vegetarian life?" She spouted off the list as if she were remembering it, as if she had asked the same questions before. I wondered about that as I started by answering the easiest question first.

"Well, I'm 23 but I usually go for something a little older because most people can't wrap their minds around having a doctor that, by all common human knowledge, should only be starting medical school." And now, for the more difficult questions. If it were for any other reason, I would avoid talking about the night of my change at all costs. The memory was far from pleasant and I didn't relish in the idea of drudging up my past demons. But I had a task and that was to distract Layla and if me sharing the traumatic life experiences I had endured eased her suffering at the current moment, then I was just going to have to suck it up and start talking.

"My change happened in August of 1964." It felt like centuries ago but the memories I had of that night were so clear it was as if they had just happened yesterday. "I had just moved to Dublin with my wife, Kathleen, and was preparing to start my first year of medical school at the University. A week before the start of the semester, Kath and I went out to celebrate." I stared straight ahead, focusing on the road and trying not to imagine the sparkle in my wife's eyes that night, trying to forget the way it felt when I saw the sparkle disappear. I concentrated very hard on just being a storyteller. I couldn't allow myself to get emotionally tied up in my memories. Not after I had worked so hard to get past them.

Layla was staring at me, patiently waiting for me to continue, so I did. "We had found out shortly after our wedding in April that Kath was going to have a baby, and we were celebrating because we had just found out we were having a little boy. We went to dinner and spent the duration of the meal bantering back and forth about names and imaginings of what he would look like and who he would become. We left the restaurant and started walking in the direction of the bus stop, but we never made it there."

I took a longer pause this time, and I almost jumped when I felt her warm hand envelop my own. She gave it a gentle squeeze and I looked from her hand to her eyes and instantly wished that I had just kept my eyes on the road. Layla looked so much like Kathleen; I swear they could have been sisters. Looking at her caused a rush of images to flash through my mind: bright memories of the happy times I had shared with my wife that grew progressively darker as the blackest night of my existence started to replay in my head.

My breathing was unsteady, but not so much so that a normal human would have noticed. I was reminded once again that Layla was no normal human when she softly said, "It's okay, Conner. You don't have to tell me. Believe me, I understand completely how sometimes painful experiences are best kept under lock and key." Her lips turned up slightly, and I surmised that the quarter smile was her best attempt at a reassurance.

It wasn't much, but it was enough. "No, I want to tell you. To be quite honest, I've never really talked about it with anyone, and keeping it inside hasn't made it any easier to deal with. Maybe it will help me to just get it out." And maybe if I talked to Layla, if she saw that letting it all out was helpful—provided that it actually was—maybe then she would share her story with me.

"We were about halfway home when he approached us. He played his role perfectly, had me completely convinced that he was a lost tourist and I agreed to lead him to where he needed to go. Kathleen was squeezing my hand frantically and motioned for us to get away while the stranger's back was turned. But he seemed harmless enough to me, so I just kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear that she worried too much. I'll never forgive myself for not listening to her. She knew. Somehow, she knew.

I still have no idea how it happened, but one minute Kath and I were walking down the darkened street and the next we were backed into an alley. It was pitch black, terrifying. I remember praying that someone would walk by, startle him so that we'd be able to escape because the stranger suddenly didn't seem so harmless. I pushed Kathleen behind me; I was ready to fight to the death to keep her and the baby safe. Only I had no idea what was coming. I had no clue what we were up against. The man was in front of me one minute, and the next, I felt Kath being pulled away from me. He moved so fast. She cried out, reached for me as I tried to jerk the stranger away from her, shift his attention from her to me. But he didn't budge as I attacked him and then he flung me through the air like I was a rag doll and I slammed into a brick wall.

I landed on the ground amongst the rubble that the force of my body had knocked out of the wall. At that time, it was the most intense pain I had ever felt. I'm sure most of my bones were broken, but I managed to roll over somehow, I managed to meet her eyes. She was backed into the wall opposite the one I had crashed into, and his mouth was planted on her neck. She was watching me, still reaching out. I couldn't move even though everything within me was fighting to get to her. I yelled and cursed and begged and pleaded. I would have given anything for him to be attacking me instead of her. But he was too busy _feeding_ to pay me any mind.

I watched as the life drained from her eyes. I watched her as her hand stopped reaching for me and her body slumped to the ground. I watched as everything important in my life died. And then the stranger turned to me. Kath was gone and I didn't really care anymore. I felt the pain when he bit me, and I prayed for him to be quick about it so I could be with Kathleen again. I felt myself slipping away, but before I could succumb to the darkness, I heard voices shouting and the stranger disappeared. And then the burning started.

When I woke up, when I realized what I had become, I was appalled. I felt the burning thirst but there was nothing that could ever make me drink the blood of a human. To be quite honest, I can't stand anyone like me who feels it is acceptable to kill a human to satiate the thirst when we can survive off of other food sources."

I risked a glance at Layla for the first time since I had resumed my story and I was heartbroken to see tears streaming down her cheeks again. Before I could apologize, she started rubbing her thumb in soothing circles over the back of my hand and whispered, "Conner, I'm so, so sorry."

"It's fine. It's in the past. I can't change what happened, and I can't dwell on it either. I lived like that for five years, allowing the anger and pain to build within me until I was consumed by it. But then one day, I got up the nerve to visit Kathleen's grave. And I had a revelation. I realized how disappointed she would be if she could see what I had become. So I made a vow to make her proud, to use the benefits I gained from becoming a vampire to do some good in this world, to help people. The next year, I was enrolled in medical school, and I've been practicing ever since, moving around before it became noticeable that I wasn't aging.

But I was still alone, and I realized after living a solitary existence for nearly four decades that there comes a point when even a vampire needs someone to confide in, something or someone to establish a sense of constancy in an always-changing life. So I started looking for others like me, others who fed only on the blood of animals. About two years ago, I heard about the coven here and I decided to investigate. I've been with them ever since."

It felt surprisingly good to get that all out, almost as if a weight had suddenly been lifted off of my shoulders. I had lost so much that night: my wife, my child, my future, my _life_. I never thought I would have to opportunity to regain what was gone. But through the years, I had managed to piece together some semblance of a life; I had tried to map out a future of doing some good in the world.

And now, sitting before me was a remarkable woman who had the potential to provide the other things I was missing: the love and the family. Tanya's coven had provided conversation, had helped keep me sane, but they were not my family. Layla had suddenly become everything I wanted, which I knew was absolutely absurd because I had known her for less than two days. But the desire to be with her ran deep inside of me and I knew that it was true. And I meant what I said when I "told" Edward that I would fight for her.

I wasn't enough of a heartless monster that I couldn't see the similarities between Edward and me. He was on the verge of losing the woman he loved and the child they had created. I knew all too well what that felt like. But I hadn't thrown mine away; I had wanted them and fought for them and I never took them for granted. Edward had, and that was a large part of the reason why I detested him so much. He had just thrown away what I would have given anything in this world to have again. I could feel no sympathy for him.

The rest of the drive passed in silence, both of us staring out of the window reminiscing about what we had lost, imagining what might have been and what would be. But despite the pain of the memories, it was a beautiful silence because Layla's hand never once left mine. Every so often, I felt a slight squeeze of my fingers and I would look at the woman sitting next to me and contemplate what she was thinking about. I wondered if one day she might think about me. I fervently hoped so.

We arrived at my house at about four in the morning and as we entered, I heard a slight rumbling next to me. I looked at Layla and I saw her hand rub her stomach and she looked up to me with an embarrassed smile. I realized I had completely forgotten about Layla's need for food. She must be absolutely famished. "When was the last time you ate?" I asked her, worry creeping into my tone.

"Uh—before the train ride." I was appalled, though now that I thought about it, I had given the nurses strict orders not to bother her at the hospital. I had thought they would at least feed her, though. I resisted the urge to start lecturing her about taking care of herself and the baby because I was too busy inwardly cursing myself for making an incorrect assumption. Now I would have to drive back out to the store and it would be at least forty minutes until there would be food in the house for her to eat. And she needed the food now; she was already entirely too thin, with the exception of her stomach. I tried not to think about Kate's story, but I couldn't help myself. I was terrified for Layla. The thought of her ending up just like Becca was devastating and I refused to allow that to happen. Somehow, I would make sure that both her and the baby made it through this okay.

"Alright, well, I'll take you on a quick tour of the house and then I'll run to the store and get you something to eat." I showed her where the necessities were located and laid her bag down on what would be her bed for the duration of her stay here. Then I asked, "Is there anything specific that you're hungry for?" I fully intended to take her shopping tomorrow to stock up on food, but for now, I just wanted to quickly pick up exactly what she wanted.

She seemed to think about it for a moment and then her eyes almost lit up as she replied, "A steak. I'm really, really hungry for a juicy steak." Her voice became timid as she added, "If that's okay. I can give you money for at the store."

I looked at her like she had lost her mind as I said, "Layla, that is more than okay and I don't want your money. You are my guest here and I want you to make yourself comfortable in my home. Anything you want or need, just ask, okay?" She nodded her head and I moved for the door, telling her, "I'll be back in about 40 minutes, okay? Just try to relax and make yourself at home until then."

I really didn't like leaving her by herself, but I knew I wouldn't be gone for long, and right now she needed nourishment more than she needed me hovering over her. Still, the thought that she would be alone filled me with an apprehension that I could not quite comprehend. I tried to push the anxiety away as I ran to my car, but it wouldn't fade. I was speeding down the road in less than a minute, praying that nothing would happen to her while I was gone.

_**Victoria's POV**_

This was almost too easy. For once, I seemed to have fate on my side. Isabella's number was up and I was a sexier version of the grim reaper. That fool Conner might as well have delivered her to me with a blood-red bow wrapped around her neck for as difficult as this was going to be. I had followed them to his quaint little house and was carefully constructing a plan of attack when I saw him rush out the door, hop into his car and speed down the road like the hounds of hell were chasing him.

I started to pout. I had wanted this to be at least a little bit of a challenge. According to my masterful plan, I would make sure Isabella had no way to escape—I thought it might be sort of poetic if I broke the same leg James had crushed last spring—and then I would rip Conner apart so that the human girl could witness my wrath before I turned my full attention to her. I wanted her to fear me. I wanted her to know what was coming and beg me to spare her. I wouldn't, of course, but it would make it all the more enjoyable if I got to hear her futile pleas for the lives of her and her child. And it would hurt Edward so much more when he heard her begging for her life before he heard her screams as I killed her.

James wasn't the only one with an eye for theatrics, after all. I knew he had tried to video Isabella's demise on the day he, himself, had died. I didn't want to be limited by holding a camera as I attacked her, though, so I invested in a small audio recorder while I was trying to maneuver around the blasted wolves in Forks. I knew I could place it anywhere within a few yards of the human and get all the effects I needed to punish Edward. Seeing her death would be nothing compared to hearing it and allowing his vivid imagination to create the accompanying picture.

Oh well, simple or not, I wasn't about to pass up this opportunity. There was no way of knowing how long Conner would be gone, and I did not want to be interrupted mid-kill by his vain attempt to save the girl. I left the cover of the woods behind and circled the house, attempting to pinpoint Isabella's location. I saw one of the lights flicker on and as I peered into the newly-lit room, I realized that the girl was preparing to take a shower.

This just continuously got better. There was no way she and her inadequate human ears would hear me entering the house now. I almost wanted to tell her it that showering was senseless because she would just be covered in blood moments after the water had cleansed her, but I decided against it. I would use the time to perfect my plan, to decide exactly what I would do to her, exactly what I would say.

I entered the house effortlessly and found the room where she had placed her meager possessions. I placed the audio recorder on the bedside table, pressed record, and sat on her bed, plotting all the while as I listened for the sound of the running water to stop. After about fifteen minutes, it did. I listened to her sighs as she did whatever it was that humans do after they shower and then I waited in anticipation as the door to the room slowly pushed open.

She was frozen in the open doorway, her eyes widened in sheer terror as she looked at me. "Hello, Isabella," I said with a smile. "Remember me?" I already knew she did, but my words were all for the show now. The final act of this human's life had started and I needed to make sure every line was perfect for its intended audience of one. She didn't reply, but I hadn't expected her to, so I continued, "I wanted to see if you would deliver a message for me. Since you'll be seeing him soon, I was wondering if you would be kind enough to send my love to James and tell him that I miss him."

_**Edward's POV**_

This wasn't going to last long, my being apart from Bella. It had only been five minutes since she had walked away from me and I felt like I was losing my mind and I had already worn a path into the frozen ground with my constantly pacing feet. I didn't like not knowing what Bella was doing, or how she was feeling or if she was safe. It was torture to be away from her for even a second. I knew Carlisle was probably right—that I needed to give her time to cool down and think about everything that had happened today. I knew that, but I also knew that I couldn't just stand around here, waiting and doing nothing.

Then I had an idea. And I almost made it out the door and into the car before I heard Alice running up behind me. "Don't try to talk me out of this, Alice," I said before she had a chance to speak.

And then I heard her thoughts. _I wasn't planning on it you big idiot. I'm coming with you. I care about her, too._

"No, you're not," I replied to her thoughts. Just because I was planning to keep a careful eye on Bella didn't mean I wasn't also planning to give her the space Carlisle had recommended. And Alice wasn't exactly the best at observing the common rules of etiquette about personal space.

_Yes, I am_, her mind almost shouted at me.

"No, you're not," I said again. She could be so stubborn sometimes. And this was wasting time.

_Okay, Mr. Know-it-all. Where exactly were you planning to go? Do you even know where Conner lives? _She had me there. I hadn't really thought that far ahead; I just knew that I needed to see Bella again. _That's what I thought _her mind said smugly_. I do. You can thank me later for getting the scoop on him while you were out here wearing a hole in the ground. Let's go._

We both hopped into the rented Volvo and I raced down the road as fast as my wheels would carry me. The miles passed by quickly, but not quickly enough. Every minute mattered to me now. If there was one thing I had learned from Bella's supposed death it was that every moment spent in her presence was precious and every second I spent without her was just wasted time that I would never be able to get back. I refused to squander any more of my time living without her.


	13. REVENGE

**In the last chapter, Bella was none too happy that Edward had kissed her, and she walked out, Conner claimed he would fight for Bella and we learned a little bit about his sad history, and Victoria arrived at Conner's home where Bella was alone, as Conner left to purchase some food for the human. Edward and Alice are on their way to Conner's, but will they make it in time? Hmmm…read on to almost find out :)**

**13 ~ Revenge**

"…**Revenge can be so sweet  
I like to take it when I can  
I need to play with the ones I hate  
I like to see them suffer  
It has to be dangerous  
It has to be refined  
It has to be skillful  
You need to take your time  
She said I take care  
Of my resources  
You never know  
When you might need them  
I'm fast and I'm strong  
My reflexes are good  
It doesn't take long  
To achieve my deserved revenge****"**

_**Revenge **_**by Eurythmics**

**Tuesday, October 4**

_**Alice's POV**_

_Edward. Edward! I know you can hear me. And I know you know I'm not going to give up until you answer me. You might as well stop sulking and start talking. I can't help you get her back if I don't know exactly how badly you screwed things up in the first place. And don't worry. You will get her back. I just know it. _I was trying to be patient and understanding of Edward's silence, but patience was never one of the virtues I possessed in large quantities and I was tremendously eager to start planning Operation Win Bella Back. Before I could do that, however, I needed him to give me more information to work with and he still hadn't spoken. I started tapping my foot; I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to know.

"For heaven's sakes, Edward, just spit it out!" I said, smacking his arm. He glared at me, clenched his jaw and then returned his eyes to the road. Ugh. He was so damn stubborn. "It's not like anything you tell me now is going to make me think any less highly of you. I already know you "_loved" _her and then left. There really isn't anything that could be worse than _that_. Although I can't imagine how in the world she managed to break down your control. You are practically the king of not budging. I guess she must have been the queen of seduction. I certainly never saw that one coming; maybe I should ask for a refund on this future vision gift of mine. You really would think I'd have seen such a major life event happening. Not that I would have warned you to be on your guard anyway because if there was ever a couple that needed to reduce some tension you two were _it._ Looks like that hasn't changed though because—"

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose as if he were getting a headache, even though that wasn't possible, and sighed as he interrupted me and said, "Alice, if I tell you what happened will you be quiet?" Oh, I was _good_. So, so good. I knew if I turned into a chatterbox he would get frustrated and give me what I wanted. Sometimes, he was so predictable that I didn't even need my visions. And since the whole future-seeking part of me seemed to be on the fritz lately, not needing the visions was a truly a good thing.

"Sure. I'll stop talking. I'm all ears." I waited impatiently for him to begin. He seemed to be struggling for a starting point so I gave him one. _When did you guys—you know—take it to the next level? Not trying to get personal with you or anything; I'm trying to figure out how long we have until the baby comes. We have so much to do to prepare._

"I am well aware of that," he snapped at my thoughts. He took another deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose again. "Her birthday. I—we—the baby was conceived on her birthday." My normally eloquent brother was fumbling for words. If I weren't so mad at him on Bella's behalf right now, I might have laughed at him for his obvious discomfort at the topic of discussion.

"You left her the same day you two had sex?! Are you _insane_? Why on earth would you do that, Edward? You're supposed to be the perfect gentleman of the family, not the love-'em-and-leave-'em idiot." Yes, I had said I was going to be quiet, but I didn't care. If the rest of the family were here, they'd be saying the same thing. So I wasn't necessarily speaking for me right now. I was speaking for them.

"Because I didn't want her to die!" he shouted in response to my questions. He was angry, but it was all internalized. "I fucked up, okay? Many times. I get that. I should have stayed away from her in the first place, before any of this even started. But I just couldn't do that. I wanted her too much. So I put her at risk, placing my selfish interests above her safety."

I opened my mouth to remind him that he hadn't been the only one responsible for starting the relationship, but he continued on too quickly for me to get a word in. "And then, to make amends for that, I told myself I would stay in control, never lose myself around her, make sure that we set boundaries and stuck to them. But I couldn't do that either. She was just too great of a temptation. I was so close to completely losing control that day, Alice. One wrong move, one millisecond of impaired judgment and I could have killed her. There were moments when I almost _wanted_ to taste her, to condemn her to our _life_, to keep her forever. All because I was selfish. Again. She was at risk. Again.

I tried to relax at her party, tried to help her enjoy her birthday instead of wallowing in my own self-loathing, but then, when she cut herself and Jasper—well, that was the final straw. It seemed like every day I was with her she was walking on a thin wire between life and death, and every day she was leaning further toward a darker destiny. I decided that if she wouldn't protect herself and walk away, then, for once, I was going to stop being so damn selfish and I was going to give her a push away from me, away from things that put her in danger.

Even if it hurt like hell. And believe you me, standing there in the forest, watching as her heart splintered with every word that left my mouth was torturous. It took all the restraint I possessed to go through with it. And now I know it was all for nothing. Now I know that Bella and I were intertwined in such a way that our separation went hand-in-hand with our destruction. My leaving her was never going to save her. I had already doomed her to her fate."

Part of me wanted to stay mad at him for doing what he did; his actions went completely against the values of our family. But I just couldn't stay angry as I looked at him, his face twisted in an agony that I could not begin to fathom. My brother was a broken man; I couldn't berate him for his actions when he was already punishing himself so thoroughly.

"Edward, she's going to be okay. We're going to figure this out. Somehow, you'll convince her of how much you love her and then you and her and the baby can be together. You just have to—"

He angrily cut me off, "Have you seen them, Alice?" I didn't need to verbally respond with a no for him to hear my answer. "I didn't think so. Did you ever stop to consider why that might be? Did you ever think that maybe the reason you can't see her anymore is because the baby she's carrying is going to kill her, make her _disappear_? _My_ baby is going to _kill_ her! Everything about me is _killing_ her. I can't let it happen, Alice. I have to convince her not to have the baby. I can't lose her again. I—" His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, "I won't survive it, Alice."

Despite his obvious suffering, my anger returned. How could he say such a thing? He was talking about his child, his miracle of a child like it was a monster that he just wanted to dispose of. I mean, I knew he was worried about Bella—I was too—but I also knew we could figure out how to get through this. If only he would stop having such a messed up one-track mind and start coming up with ideas of how to help her instead of simply pushing her away. True, pushing her away hadn't been his intention today, but he had done it all the same.

Did he not stop to think about how his words would seem to her? Did he not realize how much she loved that baby? It was completely obvious in the way her hand was always poised protectively over her belly, ready to shield it against any harm. Did he not realize that part of the reason why she loved it so much was because it _was_ his? Would he ever stop hating the creature that he was enough to start thinking that maybe, just maybe, despite everything wrong that he had done, she still loved him and he deserved a happy future with her? Was I the only one who noticed _anything_ around here?

With the way he was acting, I started to wonder if Edward even wanted the baby in the first place. He'd never actually said that he did, we had all just assumed, but maybe— "Don't you want the baby, Edward?"

He looked as if I had just knocked the wind out of him. "Of course I do! You can't think that—" He shook his head, trying to clear the incredulity that my question had brought to his mind. When he continued, his voice was strained, serious. "When I thought she was gone, that _they _were gone, all I thought about was how perfect it would have felt to have a child with her, create a family with her. The possibility was more than I ever could have dreamed. When I realized she was alive, and that our baby was a reality and not just a delusion, I started to wish for that future again.

But after hearing Kate's story, I thought about my future again. And as much as I want a child that is a part of both of us, as much as it fills me with a joy I never thought possible, having a baby would be worthless if Bella wasn't there with me to watch it grow. I _need_ Bella. I do not _need _a child." I could understand his point of view, his fear of losing her, but she was going to make it. He heard such things in my thoughts and continued, "You don't know that she will. You can't _see_ this, Alice. I wish you could, I wish it every second, but I know she's lost in some strange visionary fog. Her future is uncertain which means she is in danger. And, this time, I won't allow her to risk her life because of me."

I was about to argue with him when my visions suddenly stopped being so cloudy. In fact, they sprang into my mind with a piercing clarity. I saw Bella for the first time since her jump; my brother was kneeling in what looked like a shower of water, his cheeks and hair and hands covered in blood, his arms rocking her back and forth, whispering words that were so scattered and incoherent that I couldn't make out a single one. But I could make out the way Bella looked, and I longed for the clouds to re-emerge so that I wouldn't have to go through this again.

But the vision remained crystal clear, and I was forced to acknowledge the sight of her. Bella's newly blond hair was saturated with blood and water. Her body looked mutated, with seemingly every limb bent in the wrong direction. Every inch of her pale skin that wasn't covered with crimson-stained clothing remnants was discolored with bruises or cuts or both as droplets of scarlet-tinged water ran off of her body. But it was her eyes that haunted me the most. They stared in my direction but saw nothing. They were empty, emotionless, _dead_. And yet, they conveyed a message I was intended to see: she was gone, and, once again, I was too late.

When the vision ended, my body started shaking in fear. My mind repeated the message over and over again: _too late_.

"Alice, what is it? What did you see?" His voice broke through my tortured thoughts and I struggled to shield him from the vision. He detected my blockade immediately and his voice was firmer, desperate, as he addressed me again. "Alice! Why are you blocking me out? Show me what you saw! Show me _right now_!"

I couldn't do as he asked. It would kill him. I don't care how difficult it was to kill a vampire; Bella's death would be the only fire needed to destroy Edward's existence. I couldn't let that happen. Not when there was still a chance that we could make it in time. We had to hurry. My mind held its block as I said, "Just drive, Edward. Fast. As quickly as this car can possibly go. We have to get to Bella and we have to get to her _now._" I watched as the needle on the speedometer rose and, eventually, maxed out. Edward continued to plead with me to tell him what I had seen, but I ignored him and picked up my cell phone. As I dialed and listened to the ringing, I used every ounce of strength I possessed to pull myself together and shelter my brother from the future that I prayed we still had time to change.

_**Esme's POV**_

Carlisle hugged me tightly as we watched our children drive away. I knew exactly where they were headed and I prayed that this time the conversation between my son and the young woman who had opened his heart would end well. They both deserved some happiness after the painful weeks they had spent apart. I had known as soon as Edward had called the meeting and asked the family to leave Forks, and Bella, behind that it had been a bad idea and now all I felt was regret that I hadn't followed my instincts and protected my babies from harm, self-inflicted or otherwise.

Their love may have been relatively new, but it was strong and deep and it had intricately woven itself into the very fabric of their lives until they emerged as a whole new entity, everlastingly bound to one another. There no longer was an Edward without Bella nor was there a Bella without Edward. A love of that magnitude could never die; it could not fade or be forgotten no matter the distance of or reason for their separation.

I reminisced about the way Edward acted before Bella entered his life and the powerful transformation he underwent when she had disregarded his half-hearted warnings that he was dangerous and chosen to love him anyway. My heart sang when I remembered how I felt when I saw them together for the first time and I instantly knew that my son had finally found the missing piece in the puzzle of his life. She was everything I could have wanted for Edward, and she, like the rest of my children, had cemented herself in my heart as an eternal part of my family.

My memories darkened as they shifted to the night that had started this catastrophic mess. It was Bella's birthday and Alice had worked for weeks ahead of time to make sure everything was perfect for our family's first real birthday party. When Edward and Bella had arrived, slightly late which was uncharacteristic behavior for my ever-punctual son, Bella seemed to be glowing and Edward seemed to be trying extremely hard to appear happy. But I was not deceived; I immediately detected that something was amiss, but I said nothing because I didn't want to tarnish Bella's day. I now had a sneaking suspicion as to what had caused the contradicting emotions between the two of them.

And I was absolutely appalled. If I was correct in my assumptions, and I was fairly certain I was, Bella was still riding on the high of physical love and Edward was feeling confused and guilty and struggling to hide it. Looking back, it was so obvious that I chided myself for not seeing it then. I had known that someday they would no longer be able to fight the pull of physical desire, but I never in a million lifetimes would have imagined that Edward would even _think_ aboutleaving Bella afterword, let alone actually go through with such an absurd consideration. It went against everything Carlisle and I had raised him to be, against every value he possessed.

And yet, it didn't. Because the one thing Edward valued above everything else except for his _love_ for Bella was her safety, her life. He had battled with himself before their relationship had even started, tried desperately to save her from the danger he felt surrounded him, but, in the end, their love had been stronger. Until that day. All of a sudden, after both he and Jasper had lost control, his fear of hurting her had trumped their love.

I wanted desperately to go back in time, to sit down with Edward and have a heartfelt discussion with him. I wanted to tell him that fear is just a natural part of what it means to be in love with someone. If I had known the whole story then, I would have forbade Edward from leaving and raked him over the coals for being so careless with Bella's heart. I would have demanded that he immediately march himself right back to Bella's house and beg for her forgiveness, claiming stupidity and guilt and fear as the motivations for his departure. I would have told him to stay and do whatever else was necessary to convince her of his love. No matter how long it took, I would have made sure that our family was put back together again.

If only I had known. But I hadn't, and I recognized that blaming myself or Edward or anyone else was not going to help the situation. Right now, I chose to count my blessings rather than my troubles. Bella was alive when we had all thought she was dead; I couldn't even describe the relief and utter joy I had felt when I saw her standing outside, alive. She was pregnant with my grandchild, which was an absolute miracle. I only hoped that we would be able to keep her safe and prevent her fate from mirroring Kate's poor sister's. I shuddered at the thought of Edward's reaction to losing Bella again as the shrill ring of a telephone assaulted my ears.

I looked at Carlisle as he released me and answered the noisy device. "Yes, Alice, what is it?" he said into the small silver phone. I could hear my daughter's frantic voice on the other end of the line.

"Carlisle, you have to come to Conner's house. Now. Did you overhear the directions I got from Kate?" I did not like her tone of voice. She was scared and whatever was frightening her was at Conner's house. Bella was at Conner's house. This could not be happening.

"Yes, I heard them. What's going on, Alice? Is someone hurt? Is Edward alright? Is Bella okay?" Carlisle asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me down the stairs as he waited for her to respond.

Alice's silence was the only answer I needed to hear; it informed me that at least one of my children was in danger and that was all I needed to know. She finally spoke as we were exiting the house, her words choppy and anxious. I knew what she was doing then, because her voice always took on those characteristics when she was trying to speak about something she was blocking from her thoughts, when she was trying to prevent Edward from hearing and seeing her mind. "I had a vision. It was—Bella is going to need help when we get to Conner's. We're almost there, but I think she's going to need a doctor and I didn't see Conner in the vision. Please, Carlisle, hurry!"

"We're on our way," he said and snapped the phone shut. I wished Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper hadn't gone hunting with Irina shortly after Edward and Alice had left, because I had a feeling that our family was going to need to be together to support each other today. We were already at the Mercedes when Kate and Tanya ran outside and asked where we were headed.

"We're going to Conner's house," Carlisle said tersely. "Bella is hurt and we need to get to her as soon as possible." The back doors to the car popped open and the two women slipped inside.

"We'll go with you." Tanya said. I contemplated telling her that she needn't bother because, although I thoroughly trusted Kate, I was fairly certain that Tanya's intentions had nothing to do with helping my human daughter. But I had no idea what was going on in Fairbanks and there was a chance we would need some assistance, so I decided not to discourage them from accompanying us.

I did, however, vow to keep an eye on Tanya to make sure that she could do no further damage to Bella and Edward's relationship. I had never been fond of her advances toward Edward, even before Bella had entered his life, and I refused to allow her selfish tendencies to bring harm to my beloved son and my newest daughter. They had both been through too much already.

It was time for me to become the overprotective mother I was destined to be. From now on, no one would hurt my children without incurring my wrath. Especially not the saucy tart that was sitting behind me as we flew down the highway.

_**Victoria's POV**_

The silly girl just stood in the doorway, frozen in place as if the sight of me had rendered her incapable of movement. I huffed in annoyance. What was wrong with her? A normal human would be running right about now screaming something like, "Holy shit! A vampire just threatened to kill me! I must get away!" Then again, a normal human also wouldn't go gallivanting about with vampires, let alone get knocked up by one. Isabella certainly was _unique _and she was seriously killing my homicidal buzz. Where is the fun in the chase, after all, if your prey doesn't even run away?

"Oh come now, Isabella," I said, attempting to get some sort of response out of her. "No final words? There's nothing at all you wish to say to Edward?" I leaned across the bed and shook the audio recorder to catch her attention. But her eyes just flickered to the device and back to me. She remained silent and frozen in place. I tossed the recorder back on the bed and rose from my position, walking slowly toward her. "You aren't even going to ask me to spare you?" I paused for dramatic effect, and then continued, "You aren't even going to ask me to spare your child?"

A-ha. I realized I had found her weakness when her hand moved to her stomach and she started backing away from me as she softly said, "No, please. Don't do this." Interesting. Threaten to kill her, get nothing. Threaten to kill her half-vampire spawn, though, and she starts to get scared. So pitiful, so cute and, yet, completely futile. I laughed. I had toyed with her enough for now. Soon, she would be begging me to stop.

Now, where was I going to begin? I thought about it for a moment and decided to start out easy and work my way up. I grabbed her already injured hand, and squeezed it lightly. Well, lightly by vampire standards anyway. Her human appendage probably thought differently as I heard a series of snapping sounds that were akin to tree branches breaking in a bitter, howling wind and then she shrieked.

Oh—it was music to my ears. Maybe I would have to keep a copy of this audio for myself. I would even be nice enough to separate it into songs for dear Edward; put it in a case with a title like _Killing Isabella_. I laughed, the sound rumbling from my stomach and bursting out of my mouth with such a force that I had to tilt my head back. The name sounded like some b-list punk rock group. It was perfect. And I was already finished with the first song. I would call it _Third Time's the Charm_.

I was still holding her hand and she was trying to pull it away, to move out of the room. That just wouldn't do. I gently tugged on her arm, only enough to dislocate her shoulder and make her cry out again, nothing too harsh, and then tossed her into the wall. It cracked all the way to the ceiling and she cried out in pain. I smiled. The arm attached to her mangled hand hadn't done so well in its fight with the wall. I had definitely heard a crunch. Too bad, not so sad. Track two—_She Fought the Wall and the Wall Won_.

_One limb down, three to go_ I thought as I delighted in watching her rise to her unsteady feet and try, once again, to escape. I decided to go for a leg next. I tugged on her maimed shoulder and easily pushed her to the ground. I was on my knees in less time than one of her rapid heartbeats and I pushed down on her lower leg. She screamed in pain and I pushed harder. I would title this track _Ode to James_. It was a heavenly masterpiece of shrill soprano screams coupled with my rhythmic laughter. I wondered if she was aware her voice could be so musical. Not that it would matter soon.

"Does it hurt, Isabella?" I asked her, grinning. Her terror-filled eyes looked into mine, but she didn't speak. "Do you want me to stop? Make all the pain go away?" I nodded my head at her, willing her to answer me with a begged 'yes'. She just stared at me and I continued, "All you have to do is say so. I'll even give you time to say 'bye-bye baby' before I kill you both." My voice was sugary sweet, though my intentions were anything but. I didn't hesitate to give her the easy out of immediate death because I knew what she cared about most, and that was protecting her child. She would endure any amount of pain to keep it safe. Not that her current suffering would result in saving her baby's life, but she didn't need to know that yet.

I saw her panic as she looked toward the door and tried to crawl away from me. With one good arm and one good leg. It was an amusing thing to watch so I waited until she had almost made it out the door before I stepped on her dragging leg in the region of her kneecap. Another pop, another joyous scream. I rolled her onto her back after I had stepped on her outspread fingers, heard them crack, and received a satisfying howl from the human. Then I grasped the upper portion of her uninjured leg, yanked on it and fractured her femur.

Her chilling scream thrilled me, but I quickly realized that I might have taken things too far when the jagged bone broke through her skin and the strong scent of her blood assaulted my nostrils. I had been doing fine at maintaining my control when the cuts and scrapes from her other injuries had produced droplets of blood, but the red liquid that soaked through her holey gray sweatpants and pooled on the white carpet made the blood I had overindulged in yesterday seem like a highly inadequate meal.

I needed to finish this now. I needed to uphold my control for just a little bit longer. I refused to taste her because I knew I wouldn't be able to stop once I did. I had vowed that Isabella's demise would be drawn out and torturous and being drained of her blood would make death much too quick, much too _easy _on her. I made a split second decision, grabbed the audio recorder from the bed and grabbed a fistful of her long, blonde hair. I wondered if this was a bad time to tell her I thought she looked better as a brunette as I dragged her in the direction of the bathroom, her blood smearing an uneven line along the hardwood floor of the hallway as we went.

The walk was long enough that I was given time to ponder a few suitable song titles to keep my mind from imagining what she would taste like. As we entered the bathroom and I tossed her in the shower—oh, pity, she hit her head—I decided that _Time to Die Because Life's a Drag _was fitting. It was official; I was a song-writing genius. I turned on the water, made sure it was ice-cold so that the smell would fade rather than intensify and then watched as her blood was diluted by the cool liquid before it ran down the drain.

Isabella's cries had faded into whimpers and she looked like she was about to pass out, yet she still had the mental clarity to wrap both of her crushed arms around her belly. That was good. I wanted her to _know _that her poor little baby wouldn't be making it out of this alive. I wanted her to _understand. _I wanted her to beg me not to kill her. I positioned myself directly in front of her stomach, brought my foot back, and waited for the comprehension to dawn in her eyes.

Right on cue, the pleading started, her voice barely stronger than a whisper. "No, Victoria. Please. I'll do anything. Please don't. _Please!_"

Her disfigured hand reached out as if to ward me off, and I shook my head at her. "Silly girl, this was always the plan. I couldn't make Edward adequately pay for what he did without killing what he cares most about."

"No, he doesn—" she feebly tried to interject, but I interrupted her, enlightened her.

"Isabella, be reasonable. You are probably the only person in the entire universe who doesn't see how head-over-heels in love with you Edward is. He's a fool, I will admit, but he truly loves you. Just as I loved James. I think it's quite fair, don't you? He killed the one I loved and I'm simply returning the favor. And, unfortunately, I can't kill you without your child suffering the same fate." I laughed and sweetly said, "Sorry," as I released my foot and kicked her stomach quite forcefully.

Her piercing scream filled the air, but I was too shocked to delight in it. I had broken through her skin, but my foot had met an opposing force that felt strangely similar to the body of a vampire and I had jolted backwards, images of a blazing fire filling my mind. When I realized that the inferno was no more than a figment of my imagination, I knelt down closer to her stomach, attempting to inspect the injury, to determine what had caused the abnormal sensation. But my actions also brought me closer to the liquid that was seeping from the wound my foot had created, and my mind became fuzzy as the venom amassed in my mouth and my throat scorched with the desire to take in her blood.

I struggled to sustain my control, and I unleashed the anger I felt at my own weakness on Isabella. I growled and hissed as I slapped her cheek and then punched her stomach over and over and over again. My head perked up as I heard a noise outside. I wasn't too concerned; if Conner had returned, I had enough pent up frustration to unleash upon him and Isabella would surely die while we fought. Then I heard them calling her name and in my fury I turned to the human girl and shoved her chest against the shower wall, hearing a few satisfactory cracks as I did so.

Then I got up and leapt out the window. I may have been angry enough to fight off one other vampire, but my rage-induced strength would be no match for _two _of my kind. Isabella was not dead, but I estimated that she had about five minutes, maybe ten, before she took her last breath. I could handle that, though I was quite put out that I would not be there to witness it. Oh well, at least maybe I could—

_Fucking shit _I thought to myself as I raced through the woods toward the slowly rising sun. I had left the audio recorder.


	14. THINGS LEFT UNSAID

**When last we met, Alice had a vision of Bella's death (only this time it was at the hands of Victoria) and she urged Edward to drive quickly, hoping that they would make it in time to save her. We heard some thoughts from Esme as she, Carlisle, Kate and Tanya began their hasty trip toward Bella, and then we heard from Victoria as she beat the ever-loving crap out of Bella. Oh, hurry, Edward, hurry… :)**

**14 ~ Things Left Unsaid**

"**It's just a matter of time a few days ago  
I saw you, you were fine  
Remembering what you said…  
The Beginning of the End  
Oh, how we'd talk  
For hours upon end  
What I give  
Just to do it again  
But you're lying there  
In this hospital bed  
Won't you open your eyes  
And let's talk once again…  
Well I've been here all night  
And I'm watching you  
Breathe in and breathe out  
Is it really you  
Or just a machine  
That's giving you life  
And it's making seem  
That there could be hope  
I could say to your face  
If it weren't for you  
That there would be no grace  
That's covered my life  
You took the time  
To speak into my mind  
And my heart  
Words of life…  
So goodbye for now  
And I'll see you again  
Some way, somehow…  
I'll hold you again  
And melt at your smile  
Now all I have  
Are the ones that I'm with  
And you taught me not  
To take for granted  
The time that we have  
To show that we care  
Speak into their minds  
And their hearts  
While they're here  
And say I love you  
If you fly away tonight  
I want to tell you that I love you  
I hope that you can hear me  
I hope that you can feel me  
If you fly away tonight  
I want to tell you that I'm sorry  
That I never told you  
When we were face to face"**

_**Things Left Unsaid **_**by Disciple**

**Tuesday, October 4 to Wednesday October, 5**

_**Edward's POV**_

Everything at the moment was pissing me off. My muscles were tense, preparing to attack, though I had no idea who or what they intended to fight. My body apparently knew something my mind was oblivious to and my brain was desperate to keep up, frantically searching, seeking out something, anything that would give me information about what Alice had seen. But there was only silence surrounding me; there were no inhabitants of the bordering woods for me to listen in on, nothing to give my brain even the slightest hint at what was going on. Alice was still silent as well, refusing to talk to me while she concentrated on shutting me out of her mind. It was agonizingly frustrating. I glanced at the speedometer, continuing the Alice—road—speedo darting triangle my eyes had been making ever since my sister had experienced her secret vision. Another annoyance—this infernal car was only going 130 miles per hour, which was far slower than I wanted to be moving.

I needed to hurry. Bella was in trouble, and I didn't yet know why or how badly. But I knew that, whatever the answer to those questions, it was my fault. I had let her go. I should have gone after her. I should have tried harder to convince her to stay with me. I should never have let her leave with Conner. And speaking of Conner—the prick—where the hell was _he_? The only reason I hadn't been as worried about Bella leaving was because he had been acting so damn overprotective of her. While I strongly detested that, I thought she would at least be safe until I figured out how I was going to win her back.

If she was in as much danger as Alice's silence indicated, there were only two reasons I could think of that would explain it. And both of them left me with the intense desire to beat Conner to a pulp. The first was that he, for some reason, was not with her because if he was, he should have been able to protect her from whatever was placing her in danger. He had certainly seemed like he wanted to take on the role of guardian angel and the only time ever that I would be okay with relinquishing my title as such was today, right now. So where the hell _was_ he? I left Bella in his care; if she was hurting, so would he.

The second reason that had crossed my mind made me shudder; there was a possibility that Conner was the one _putting_ her in danger. I really didn't know the guy, after all. I had seen into his mind, yes, but even thoughts can be deceiving at times. What if he wasn't as safe for her as I had believed? What if his intentions had always been to harm her? And I had just stood there as he whisked her away. If he had hurt her, I was going to kill him, very, very slowly, and then I was going to find someone to beat the shit out of me for letting it happen. I glanced at the speedometer for the thousandth time. Why didn't this car go faster?

I was about to beg Alice to give me some indication of what we were dealing with when the image flitted across my mind and I almost swerved off of the road. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alice jump when the car jerked, but I could not decipher the words she spoke afterward because my mind was solely focused on the image. I had seen Bella, only I didn't want to believe it was her. I _couldn't_ believe it was her. It was similar to the way she had looked last spring, after she had been attacked by James. Only this time she looked about a million times _worse_. I had barely maintained my sanity after she was attacked the last time, and I doubted I would be able to cope with it happening again.

At first, I was terrified that Alice's block had broken and the picture in my mind was what she had seen, what she had been keeping from me. Then more ghastly images came, flashing rapidly in my mind and I had an uncontrollable urge to throw up, even though I knew I couldn't. Alice was squeezing my arm, talking to me, but I still couldn't make sense of her words because there was a different woman's voice flowing into my head. I recognized it immediately, and my breathing stopped. Victoria. I hadn't realized I had said her name aloud until my body was being shaken and I finally looked at my sister.

"What about Victoria, Edward?" Alice asked, but I couldn't speak. I was still listening in, horrified. "Edward? Talk to me!" she yelled in my ear. I wanted to. I wanted to kick and scream and cry and attack. I wanted to get her thoughts out of my head. And yet I didn't, because right now, Victoria's malicious thoughts were the only connection I had to Bella. And as long as it remained my sole link to my love, I was powerless to do anything but push down on the already-floored accelerator and watch the nightmarish mental movie of Victoria destroying the most precious thing in the world to me.

I knew we were close; her thoughts were getting clearer, deadlier. After about three minutes of psychological torture, I saw the house. I was counting the passing seconds as we made our way down the lane to Conner's home, knowing that each one was bringing Bella's life closer to its end. I stopped the speeding car and jumped out, calling Bella's name as the Volvo's door slammed shut, barely registering Alice's soprano voice echoing my own. I heard Victoria's thoughts stop for a split second and then quickly restart. I saw her slam Bella into the wall, I heard the bones breaking, I saw Bella's broken body slump to the floor, and I hadn't even made it into the house yet.

I was yelling, running, praying, _seething_. As I kicked in the front door and ran inside, the scent of Bella's blood crashed into me. It awakened the long-dormant monster within, but not because I thirsted for her blood, though it still sang to me as it always had. No, this monster hungered for something else entirely. This monster hungered for vengeance. I felt like I was being torn in half. One part of me was so filled with murderous rage that I wanted nothing more than to chase after Victoria's retreating form and tear her apart into microscopic pieces, one for every scrape, every bruise, every broken bone, every punch, every millisecond that Bella had felt pain.

And the other half, the dominant half, was falling apart as I followed the blood trail that led me to the bathroom where Bella was laying, unmoving, silent. I was at her side in an instant, and her eyes, her blessed, beautiful, angelic eyes looked into mine. "Bella?" I said, my voice breaking alongside my heart, my eyes calling for tears that could not fall. My breathing was rapid and uneven as I looked over her plethora of injuries. There were cuts and bruises everywhere I looked, both of her legs were broken in multiple places, her hands were practically destroyed, one of her shoulders was dislocated, she had huge gashes on her cheek, her head and her stomach, and I was pretty sure, after the thoughts I had seen, that she had some broken ribs.

My body was shaking in anger and misery as I smoothed the reddened, soaking wet hair out of her face. The action must have startled her, because she shifted away from me and then cried out in pain. The sound cut me through to my soul. I wanted to take it all away; I wanted desperately to mend everything that Victoria had broken. Why Bella? Why now? Why couldn't Victoria have attacked _me_? Even as I asked myself the questions, though, I _knew_ why. I had heard it all in her evil mind. She _had _attacked me in the only way she knew she could surely win—by harming the woman I loved. I swallowed the lump in my throat and spoke in tones as soothing as I could muster. "Oh God. It's going to be okay, love. I'm going to fix you. You're going to be okay."

She stared at me for a few seconds, her expression confused, and then she whispered, "Edward?" as if she didn't believe I was actually there.

"Yes, love, I'm here. You're safe now." And she was. Because for the rest of eternity, anyone who wanted to get to her was going to have to first get through me. I was never going to leave her side again. Her eyes darted around, searching for something. She looked scared, and I guessed that she was looking for Victoria. "She's gone. She won't hurt you again. Not ever."

Her quivering body seemed to relax, and she stammered, "'s cold. I'm s-so cold." I realized then that the water that was pelting down from the shower head was like ice, and I inwardly cursed at Victoria as I turned off the faucet. Was there no end to her cruelty? Was it not enough that she had ferociously assaulted Bella, tried to kill her? Did she really have to freeze her to death as well?

I hated the idea that I would have to hurt Bella by doing so, but I knew I needed to get her out of the pooling red water in the shower and warmed up before she started going into shock. And then, since, thankfully, she was responsive and seemed to be breathing okay, I needed to stop the blood that was pouring out of her leg and her head and her stomach. I cringed as I once again looked at the wound on her swollen belly.

I had said before that I wanted to talk Bella out of having the baby because it was putting her life at risk. If it came down to it, I had been willing to lose our child to save Bella, and that was still true. But I realized how powerfully I loved and wanted that baby because right then, at that moment, I was fairly certain I had lost it. The grief washed over me and all I wanted to do was fall to my knees and cry. I learned, yet again, how true is the phrase that you never know how much something means to you until it is gone. Once in my life, I had been lucky enough to get it back. I didn't think I would be so fortunate this time.

But I needed to hold it together, because I still had Bella and I would be damned if she was going to be taken away from me. I heard Alice's footsteps behind me and I spoke to her as I gently lifted Bella from the cold tiles, struggling to maintain my composure when she yelped at the movement. "Alice, I need something to stop the bleeding. Find me towels, blankets, any medical supplies Conner may have here. And call Carlisle. Find out how soon he'll be here."

I held Bella to my chest and carried her to a clean room—I didn't want to take her into a room where she had been attacked in case the sight caused her to panic—and then I laid her down on the bed as carefully as I could. I instructed Alice to hold the gauze that she had found against the wounds on Bella's head and stomach. She did as I asked and then informed me that Carlisle, Esme, Kate and Tanya were about ten minutes away, and I growled softly at the news that Tanya was coming.

The last thing I needed right now was another run-in with a female vampire that was hell-bent on destroying my relationship with Bella. Granted, Tanya wasn't really a threat to Bella's life, but she certainly _was_ unwelcome company. "Don't concern yourself with Tanya," Alice, always intuitive, said in response to my growl. "I'll be _watching_ to see if she's planning to do anything stupid. The only thing you need to think about right now is Bella." When this was all over and done with, when Bella was safe and recovering and I had a free moment to think again, I was going to have to thank Alice. If it hadn't been for her, I might still be driving around looking for this place, and I didn't even want to contemplate what I would have found when I finally arrived. I owed her for saving Bella's life, which really meant that I owed her for saving my own, and I vowed to make sure that someday I showed her how much I appreciated everything she did for me.

I grabbed the blunt-ended scissors from the pile of medical supplies Alice had located and quickly, but delicately, cut off Bella's sweatpants so that I could stabilize the broken bone that was sticking out of her thigh and attempt to stop the bleeding. Bella started to speak to me, her tears causing her words to slur together. "Edward?" she whispered, the sound barely audible, even to my overly sensitive ears. I looked at her, my hands and arms still performing the task of securing the bandages around her broken leg even though they ached to hold her close and never let go. "Edward, I—I'm—I didn't mean it when—"

"Shh, love," I soothed when I noticed that she winced more than usual every time she moved her mouth. "There will be plenty of time for talking later. You just try to rest now." I couldn't help myself from gently caressing her uninjured check as I spoke the words, praying to whichever god was listening that they were true. For once, she listened to me and relaxed into the bed.

I felt helpless. I knew from her sluggish pulse and heart rates that her injuries were far worse than I could diagnose with just my eyes and ears, but I had no idea of just how bad they were until Carlisle walked in the room, startling Bella so much so that she tried to sit up, and that action caused her to cry out before she fell back on the bed and started coughing uncontrollably, gasping for air. Her heart started thundering in her chest, and I lost control.

"Carlisle, what's happening?!?" I yelled at my father, my fear temporarily clouding my judgment and sense of respect. He was already at my side, his stethoscope in his ears, listening to the sounds her chest was making. I was only patient enough to endure a few more seconds of her gasping before I asked again. "Carlisle?!?"

"Dear God," I heard Esme whisper as she walked to the opposite side of the bed and stared at Bella's struggling body. I saw her reach for Bella's hand, probably in a natural effort to hold it and offer comfort to her newest daughter, but when she realized the condition of both of Bella's appendages, she drew back and covered her own mouth with her fingertips instead.

"Her right lung has collapsed," Carlisle stated as he withdrew a syringe from the medical bag he had brought with him. He continued to speak as he grabbed the scissors and cut the remnants of her shirt away from her chest. "I have to release the air from her pleural cavity before the pressure builds and overstresses her heart which, among other things, could result in her other lung collapsing." I watched as he inserted the needle into Bella's chest and then I heard a very faint hissing noise.

My panic calmed slightly when Bella's coughing started to subside and her heart rate somewhat stabilized, but it returned with full force when Carlisle spoke again. "That will help reduce the pressure but her lung is still deflated. It's only a temporary fix. We need to get that lung re-inflated as soon as possible, not to mention treat the rest of her injuries, some of which I cannot even begin to diagnose here and many of which could be fatal. I don't have nearly the amount of equipment or supplies I am going to need to treat her properly."

"Then we'll take her to the hospital. It's only about ten minutes away. I saw the sign for it while we were driving here," I stated, already having decided that it was the only plausible solution. I knew it was a dangerous gamble; Bella was severely injured, which would raise questions, as would her pregnancy were hospital staff members to find out about its inhuman qualities, if there were any, and we weren't familiar with the people or the facilities here so we couldn't just go barging in and take everything over without controversy or question. But I didn't care. Bella's life depended on us fixing the damage that Victoria had done. And no matter the challenges that we faced to do so, I was determined to save her.

"You can't do that!" Tanya insisted from the doorway. It was the first time since their arrival that she had made her presence known, and she had picked a very bad time to speak.

I was in her face almost instantly, shouting, "We're taking her to the hospital and there's not a damn thing you can do about it." I saw the fury in her eyes, but it was nothing compared to my own. From the corner of my eye, I saw Carlisle, Esme and Alice preparing Bella to be transported, which only affirmed my heated declaration.

"You would risk exposing all of us, risk all of our lives for that worthless little human?" she questioned, and before I allowed myself to think, I pushed her into the wall, my hand squeezing her neck.

"I would risk _anything_ for Bella. She is only in this situation because of me, and I will _not _tolerate you slandering her simply because of your childish jealousy. If taking her to a hospital means exposing us, then so be it. That is just something I will have to deal with at a later time. Right now, my only concern is saving Bella's life."

I felt a hand on my arm and I looked behind me to see Alice, her soothing thoughts flowing into my mind as I met her understanding eyes. _Let her go, Edward. We need to get Bella to the hospital _now_ and arguing with Tanya is not going to help this situation. She has a point about us getting exposed—_I growled at that thought_—but you know that right now the only thing anyone in our family cares about is saving Bella. She needs you right now, Edward, but she needs you to be _calm_._

Alice was right, as usual. I released Tanya from my hold, but my anger at her hadn't dissipated. "Don't ever speak to me again," I hissed at her and then returned to Bella's side and, together with the rest of my family, carefully lifted her off of the bed and carried her to the Mercedes. I didn't miss the look of hatred in Tanya's eyes as we passed by, nor did I miss her venomous thoughts, which centered on her hatred of Bella—and me.

_**Conner's POV**_

I had raced back to my house with about six different types of steak and several packets of marinades, a selection of pastas and sauces and an assortment of fresh vegetables hoping that Layla would be able to create an appetizing meal before she drifted off into a much-needed slumber. I had spent the majority of the return trip from the grocery store trying unsuccessfully to recall something from my human life about how to prepare food so that Layla wouldn't have to lift a finger, but I eventually concluded that I would just have to be a fast, observant learner. The remainder of the trip involved my mind running in circles trying to unravel the mystery that was Layla Masen.

I had never, even in my worst waking nightmare, expected to find the scene that befell me when my home came into view. The first thing I noticed were the two cars parked in front of my house—one of which I knew belonged to Edward. As in, the Edward I had vowed to protect Layla from. I punched the steering wheel in frustration as I sped down the lane toward my home. I never should have believed him when he said he would give her space. She was probably freaking out right now, when all she should be doing for the sake of her own health and the baby's is eating and relaxing. And I had just left her here alone to be bothered by—

What the hell was going on? I parked the car and ran to the door as I saw Edward and his "father", Carlisle, exiting the house carrying Layla. When I finally saw her, I nearly exploded in confusion and anger. "What the fuck did you _do _to her?" I yelled at Edward. If doing so wouldn't have caused him to drop Layla, I would have punched him. Her body was completely destroyed. I had only been gone thirty-five minutes. How could all of this damage been done in that short amount of time? And _why_? If Edward had tried to get her to take him back and she had resisted, would he really have been capable of such a horrid act? As much as I detested him, it didn't seem likely. I watched as they carefully loaded Layla into the back of Carlisle's Mercedes, waiting for the bastard to answer me.

Edward turned around and stalked toward me as Carlisle busied himself making sure Layla was secured in her stretched out position in the back seat of his car. He shoved me back repeatedly as he spat out his response. "_I _didn't do anything to her. Where the hell were _you_? You were so adamant about protecting her, but when she truly needed to be protected _you_ weren't here. _You _should never have left her alone. She's lucky Alice and I got here when we did or she'd be—she'd be—"

His sister appeared next to him, placing a strong hand on Edward's shoving arm, cutting him off as she addressed both of us, her voice calm and commanding. "Look, we don't have time for this. I know you two don't exactly see eye to eye, but for now you are both just going to have to tolerate one another because Bella is going to need both of you if she has any chance of making it out of this situation alive." Edward seemed to sober up immediately when Alice mentioned the possibility of Layla dying, but I could see that he was about as pleased by Alice's words as I was when he glared at me before he got in the driver's side of the Mercedes.

He started the engine and reached back to Layla, gently caressing her cheek with his fingertips. I clenched my jaw in frustration and forced myself to pay attention as Carlisle spoke hurriedly to me. "We're headed to the hospital. Despite what you may think, all of us love Bella very much and if we are to have any chance of saving her, we're going to need your help once we arrive there. If you give me your phone number, I'll give you the rundown on her injuries as we drive." He appeared composed, but his eyes betrayed his worry and I started to wonder just how badly I had misjudged this family. I instantly agreed to help in any way I could and rattled off my cell phone number.

Seconds later I was speeding down the road between the Mercedes and the Volvo, waiting for my phone to ring. My impatience to receive an explanation was almost suffocating. Finally, I felt the small vibration and the phone was at my ear. Carlisle spoke immediately. "She was attacked by another vampire. Her lung collapsed, and I did a needle decompression but we need to get a chest tube in her to re-inflate the lung. She's got multiple crushed and broken bones, a severe laceration on her stomach, and potentially severe head trauma. So far she's been responsive and her vitals are stable but I have no idea what the extent of her internal injuries are. When we get to the hospital, we're going to need somewhere private to treat her so that her injuries do not attract too much attention, because there is a strong likelihood of us exposing ourselves if someone gets too curious, and I don't need to warn you about the dangers of that. We're also going to need access to do a CT scan and unlimited time in an operating room because even if her internal scans come out okay, she's going to need a lot of orthopedic work to fix her extremities. Do you think you'll be able to get all the equipment and supplies we need?"

I heard myself grunt a positive response before I hung up, but my mind was flying in about a thousand different directions. The predominant emotions sucking me under were fear and guilt. I was terrified that Layla wouldn't make it, and even if she did, I was worried how she would react if her injuries had resulted in her losing the baby. Half-vampire or not, babies usually do not come out on the winning end in severe trauma cases. I would never forgive myself if either of them didn't live through this. I had left her defenseless in my home; it was my fault she had been attacked. It would be my fault if she or the baby died, just as it had been my fault the night my wife and child had been taken from me. I had stupidly thought that being with Layla would offer a chance for a new beginning, a chance to make amends for a past that I could not change. But I was wrong; it seemed that the cruelties of fate felt that I deserved to relive my mistakes rather than be given a second chance.

And fate was nothing if not attentive to details. Layla had even been attacked by a vampire. But the vampire hadn't killed her, which was something I was having a difficult time wrapping my head around. Unless Edward's timing was spot on, it seemed unlikely that he could have arrived at just the right moment to prevent one of our kind from feeding on, and thereby killing, a human. Which lead me to the conclusion that the vampire had attacked her for a reason other than hunger. But, try as I may, I could think of no other possible motive.

It seemed as if every small fragment of information I learned about Layla only served to momentarily enlighten before it exponentially increased the amount of questions I had about her. I had seriously had enough of being in the dark. Just because I didn't feel right about pushing Layla for information didn't mean that I couldn't find out what exactly was going on from someone else. So I made a decision: as soon as we had Layla stabilized, someone, and right now I didn't really care who that someone happened to be, was going to give me a detailed explanation.

After I made that decision and soothed my frazzled nerves enough so that I could speak calmly and rationally, I got to work. I called the hospital, told them my name and that I immediately needed to speak with Abby Marshall, the head nurse of the emergency department who also happened to be the human I felt I could entrust with the bizarre requests I was about to make. When she came on the line with a cheerful, "Yes, Dr. McCarthy, what may I do for you?" I silently prayed that I was making the right choice and then asked her to prepare a private room on the east wing—which, luckily, should be empty because it had just undergone a major renovation and had not yet been opened—with all of the supplies I thought we might need to treat Layla. I told her that I would be arriving with a trauma patient through the rear doors, but that I was not permitted any assisting staff other than those that I would be bringing in with me because the patient was extremely high-profile and required absolute anonymity in order to ensure that her safety and privacy remained secure. An outright lie, of course, but it was the only semi-legitimate explanation I could think of to keep the ER staff from seeing or treating Layla. Abby assured me that she would prepare the room herself and then make sure that no one accessed the east wing unless I had given an authorization. I thanked her profusely and hung up the phone. I would worry about procuring the CT and operating rooms once we arrived and I had a better idea of what we were up against.

I said a prayer as I passed the Mercedes and led the way to the back entrance of the hospital. It had been a long time since I had been religious, but I figured that now was a good time as any to rekindle the faith I had once possessed. I glanced up to the sky and prayed that fate would not end Layla's life just to punish me. I prayed that she and her child would survive and recover and be happy and healthy. Even if she chose to make her life with Edward instead of me.

_**Carlisle's POV**_

The past twenty-four hours had been hell on earth for my family. No, I supposed, that wasn't entirely true. The hell had started when we had thought that Bella was dead. I had carefully watched Edward after Alice's revelation, afraid of what he might do as a result of his grief, afraid of losing another member of my family. I wanted to comfort him, to tell him that he would get through this, but I couldn't bring myself to tell an outright lie to my son, to reassure him when I knew that if it had been me, if I had lost Esme, there would be no recovering from the loss.

So I had just remained silent and watched as he rapidly disintegrated. And then, a miracle happened, catapulting us all back to earth, back into the light. Bella was alive. And we were given just enough time to start hoping again before our lives once again plummeted into hell. I had known as soon as I had seen Bella after the attack that her chances of survival were not good. But I still held on to a sliver of hope.

After we arrived at the hospital, Conner and I had worked for nearly twenty hours on fixing the damage that had been done. Her internal abdominal injuries were not as severe as I had feared; we had needed to remove her damaged spleen but the majority of her other organs, although bruised, would heal. And, by some miracle, the sac surrounding the baby had not been damaged in Victoria's assault. The lack of damage was the extent of the knowledge I was able to gain about the baby, however, because Conner informed me that ultrasounds produced no images of the child and I simply had not had the time to try to perform more tests because the rest of Bella's body had required immediate attention.

The blow she had received to her head had caused blood to accumulate beneath her skull and we had been forced to perform an emergency craniotomy to relieve the pressure on her brain. And after that, we had done our best to rod and pin and stitch Bella's broken limbs back together again.

In the end, we had wheeled Bella into her private room, cast and bandaged like a mummy from head to toe, attached to a wide array of tubes and constantly beeping monitors. Edward had been by her side every step of the way, helping us when he could, and it was at her side that I now found him. I watched through the window as he whispered softly, professing his love and begging her to come back to him, but his whispers fell upon ears that most likely could not hear his desperate words.

She could not hear him because Bella had not emerged from the anesthesia after her extensive surgeries. We had watched and waited for her to open her eyes, but they remained closed. We had prayed for her to respond to our tests to determine her level of unconsciousness. But she had not. Every minute that passed, she was slowly slipping away from us.

I had a feeling that part of the reason she had not awakened was because her brain lacked the energy to perform such a task. According to Conner, it had been more than two days since she had eaten, and it seemed as though her body was simply refusing to absorb the nourishment from the feeding tubes we had inserted. I suspected that the baby had something to do with that, but it was a completely unfamiliar medical phenomenon, and I was at a loss for what to do.

One thing was certain, though. If Bella's body continued to reject any form of sustenance, which seemed likely, we were going to lose her. If the rejection truly was due to the baby, we had the option of removing it in order to save Bella's life, but I was hesitant to offer that suggestion because I had seen the small amount of light that had returned to Edward's eyes when we had informed him that the child appeared to have survived Victoria's attack. It seemed he had done a complete turnaround since he had last spoken about the child to Bella; he seemed to love the baby as much as he loved its mother.

I continued to watch him as he tenderly kissed her uninjured cheek and then he surprised me by placing a feather light peck on the bulging blankets covering her stomach. The delicate melody of Bella's lullaby floated to my ears, but its sweetness was soured by the incessant beeping of the heart rate monitor and I was left to wonder how I was ever going tell him that, in order to save Bella's life, we might have to kill the child that had recently captured his heart.


	15. I'M JEALOUS

**Okay, so Victoria attacked Bella and escaped as Edward and Alice got to the house. The family took Bella to the hospital, with Conner's help, and even though she's alive, she hasn't woken up from the anesthesia because she doesn't seem to have the energy to do so. Edward made an enemy out of Tanya and that fact will be explored in this chapter. We will also hear a wee bit from Rose and Emmett, so enjoy, lovelies. Oh, and don't hate me just yet, k?**

"**But you suck, starcrossdlover, and I want to hate you" you say to me upon reading this. Well okay then. I suppose you're allowed. Hehe :)**

**15 ~ I'm Jealous**

"…**You must be blind**

**Take a good look at her  
She's not your kind  
I don't know what I'd do**

**If I saw her with you…  
I come around and see you**

**Cause I want to remind you  
But what if she's there**

**How would I find you  
You've got a new baby…**

**I'm liable to do anything**

**I might kick her face in…  
And it hurts, and it hurts right here**

**In my heart is a bloody tear…  
You got a new girlfriend but I still love you  
I can't stand the thought of her**

**Having a piece of you  
I'm jealous, I'm jealous, I'm jealous out of my mind****"**

_**I'm Jealous **_**by The Divinyls**

**Tuesday, October 4 to Thursday, October 6**

_**Tanya's POV**_

I didn't know why I was even doing this. It wasn't like I owed Edward anything. After all, we had known each other since shortly after he had been changed and he had just thrown our entire relationship away for that insignificant _human_. I had been trying to capture his heart—and body—for decades, and he had never once given me the time of day.

I had thought, for a time, that he was simply incapable of sharing himself with someone, that he was destined for eternal bachelorhood. But that had presented an amusing challenge to thwart the humdrum of vampiric life, and I had vowed that, someday, I would make him mine. Over the years, my feelings for him had strengthened, and each time he turned me down, my determination was renewed instead of obliterated.

If someone had asked me yesterday, I might have answered that I loved him, and meant it. But in an instant, that had changed. In an instant, Edward had chosen to protect the worthless girl instead of his entire family, his entire _race_. Now, stronger than I had ever loved or wanted him, I was disgusted by him. He was putting all of us at risk, and he didn't even care. It didn't matter that we could all be put to death because of what she knew. It didn't matter that none of us had been given a choice to be involved in a situation that could expose us, turn our lives upside down. It didn't matter that _my _family had already lived through the pain and the consequences and the loss of breaking the rules. Nothing mattered to him except for _her_.

And I _hated _him for that. I hated him for a lot of things, actually. I hated him for being selfish, I hated him for putting me and my sisters in danger and I hated him for loving someone other than me when I knew that I was meant for him. I hoped that, despite all of his efforts, he failed. He deserved to watch the girl die after what he'd done. Her death would bring our absolution, but not his. He would suffer, and it would be fully justified.

Thinking about how much I despised Edward had me wondering, yet again, why I was hunting down the vampire who had nearly killed the offensive human girl he had chosen when all I truly wanted to do was shake her hand for trying to murder Bella, and then smack her for not finishing the job. If I hadn't been so angry at Edward while we were at Conner's house, I would have vehemently denied Carlisle's request that Kate and I attempt to track down Victoria. But my rage had temporarily rendered me dumbstruck, Kate had agreed to Carlisle for both of us and here I was, running east through the woods trying to follow a scent that was nearly impossible to track because of the changing winds and the snow that had started to fall quite heavily a few minutes after we had left Conner's house.

Wait—it was right there. I stopped my run and deeply inhaled, just to be certain. Yes, it was definitely her scent that had just blown into my nostrils. I was heading in the right direction and from the strength of her scent there was a good chance that I would catch up with this Victoria character. But this was not my fight, I decided as I stood in the middle of the woods, taking deep breaths, refusing to follow the trail I had found. I would be quite content if Victoria was allowed to roam free; after all, she had never wronged _me_. And I would be elated if she managed to take another crack at killing Edward's precious human. Hell, I'd even offer to help with that if—

Well now, that wasn't really a bad idea, was it? The wheels in my head started turning, slowly at first, then with increasing speed as my legs followed suit and headed eastward. My love had turned into hate and from my hate sprang forth a plan. A vicious, spiteful, delightful little plan. A slight smile graced my lips at the thought of it and I forced my legs to run faster and faster toward the rising sun. I could only hope that I reached Victoria before anyone else and that she was civil enough to listen to what I had to say. It certainly would be a shame if I was forced to brawl with someone who would make such a spirited ally.

_**Emmett's POV**_

I had always loved fighting. It was just a natural thing for me, something I was good at, something that I enjoyed almost as much as I loved afternoon anywhere-sex with a feisty Rosalie. Jasper could attest to that—the fighting, of course, not the sex—I whooped his ass on numerous occasions, despite his previous experience and his unfair ability to nearly incapacitate me with nerves and feelings of fear and inadequacy. _Oh yes_, I thought, _I loved fighting_.

But as I chased the dwindling scent of the vindictive bitch that had beaten the shit out of my baby sister, I was torn between the strong desire to rip Victoria apart, and the completely uncharacteristic wish that I wouldn't have a reason to. I think, just this once, I would give up the chance at a kick-ass fight if it meant that Bella wouldn't be laid up in a hospital bed right now, fighting to keep herself and her kid alive, killing my dickhead of a brother in the process.

Maybe that's a little harsh; Edward wasn't really a dickhead. He was just stupid. Extremely, extremely stupid. I mean, the guy had spent over a hundred years in his combined lives trying to find the kind of love that the rest of us had been lucky enough to encounter, and then, when he finally found her and stopped being a reclusive little prick and actually started to have some fun for once, actually started to smile and laugh and _live_ for the first time in the years that I had known him, he turned around and left her.

How he had managed to walk away from Bella, especially after he had finally stopped being so damned priggish and had sex with her, I will never know. Lord knows I wouldn't be able to walk away from Rose like that, even if she asked me to. There's just something about the way we vampires fall for our mates. It doesn't go away. The feeling is wicked awesome, like a high without the drugs. Until your other half leaves. Then you get the withdrawal effects of her absence, and if you don't get a fix soon enough, I'm pretty sure it's powerful enough to kill you. At least, that's how I feel about Rose.

And that's how Edward seemed to feel about Bells. Hell, if he was away from her for a half hour, it was like his world came crumbling down. He was moody, irritable—pretty much a big, huge love-struck pain in the ass sissy-boy. When he said that he wanted us to leave, I just looked at him like he was out of his damn mind. But I figured he'd see.

And I was right. A day away from Bella and he was back to being old man cranky. I told myself if he didn't give in to the pull of love within three weeks, I was gonna drag his butt back to Forks, sit down with my two kid siblings and tell them how it was. I was gonna lay down some ground rules. The first would be that they weren't allowed to be separated for more than five hours without some form of contact. The second, and last, was that they needed to shack up and get rid of some of that brooding tension they had going on. Little did I know they had already experimented with my recommended tension releaser.

And something had gone really right during that first experiment, even if Edward didn't realize it yet. For the first time in my life, I envied him. He was going to have a kid. It wasn't something I had really given much thought to since I knew it wasn't a possibility for Rose and me, but now that one of us was actually producing offspring, I couldn't help but mull it over. And, in my opinion, it was pretty great. I mean, the kid's dual species status was kind of bothersome since it was kind of risky for Bella, but she had all of us there to support her and I knew it would work out okay. I just couldn't wait to see the look on Edward's face when I spoil his little kid rotten. The possibilities were endless. Oh yes, that baby was sure gonna love Uncle Emmett. And daddy Edward was going to have a fit. Life didn't get much better than that.

"Seriously, Emmett, would you focus, please? You have the attention span of a schizophrenic gnat. How you manage to do so well in fights is beyond me." I growled at Jasper's insulting words, but I knew that they held a little bit of truth. I did tend to get sidetracked easily. My growl turned into a temporary grin before I sobered up, though, because he knew that he had just given me an invitation to beat him down at a later time. I relished the thought, but for now, I needed to focus. We were evil-bitch-hunting, and there was no time for me to get sucked in by thoughts of children and teddy bears or the thrill of victory over my emotional brother. All of that shit could wait. Killing Victoria could not.

Jasper spoke again, and I was on full-alert. "I'm having a really hard time detecting Victoria's scent. Are you getting anything?" I thoroughly sniffed the surrounding air, but instead of finding Victoria's nasty odor, I discovered two, more familiar scents.

"No, but Kate and Tanya were here. And it smells like," I sniffed again, in multiple areas just to be sure my assumptions were correct and then continued, "they split up. Kate went that way," and I pointed toward the north, "and Tanya headed east." Sometimes, having a very sensitive sniffer had its perks, especially when you were on the hunt for a crazy psycho bitch that is determined to wreck your family. It was days like these, when my superior senses were put to good use, that I loved being a vampire.

"Alright well, we can either split and take the west and south," Jasper offered, "or, we can go with the theory that Kate and Tanya managed to catch Victoria's scent before it got messed up with this weather and we can split to the north and east like they did to offer help to whoever was on the right track." The second option sounded like it offered the greatest likelihood of one of us encountering—and eliminating—the evil one so it definitely had my vote.

"I think we should split and follow the girls. Chances are, they were onto something, and I don't wanna miss out on the action. I bet I'll get to Victoria first. And if I'm the one that gets to rip her apart, you'll have to—" I paused to think a moment so that I could make this wager really good. It came to me as my thoughts briefly touched on the reason why we were after Victoria in the first place, and I was explosive with anticipation as I finished, "you'll have to change a month's worth of diapers once Edward's kid is born. Give Bells some more time to recuperate. Yuck. Can you imagine how bad that will smell with _our_ senses?" I could laugh because _I_ didn't plan on losing.

Jasper's face paled, if that were possible, but then he got smug. "Fine," he stated matter-of-factly, "but the same goes for you. And when I win, I'm going to delight in every minute of this. I might even break out the video camera." The game was on, and the wagers were locked. Jazz and I took off in our respective directions, ready to destroy at first sight.

_**Rosalie's POV**_

I felt like an intruder as I watched Edward speak softly to Bella's unresponsive form. And yet, I couldn't pull my eyes away from them. The way his voice caressed her name, the way every word was a delicate song he seemed to have composed for only her ears to listen, the way his fingertips sought out the few areas of her body that remained unscathed after the attack so that he could find some way to physically connect to her; they were all beautifully heartbreaking.

For the first time since their relationship had begun, I understood why their obvious differences had not been enough to keep them apart. And I felt positively wretched for not realizing it sooner. I had foolishly thought that they were not meant to be, that fate would not create soul mates that were so diverse. I had stupidly let my insecurities and my jealousies control my cruel actions toward Bella; I now knew she deserved so much better. And I let them cloud my observations of reality.

The reality was that Edward was hopelessly devoted to Bella. For all his stupid deeds, he had never stopped loving her. And despite my prior misconceptions, Bella seemed to feel the same about my brother. When I thought she had killed herself, I hated her for being so weak, for hurting Edward and denying him the chance to have a child, denying our family the chance of having a baby join our lives.

And then she had turned up in Alaska, alive, pregnant, scared, but with a renewed strength I had never known she possessed. I watched her, I listened to her, and I was in awe of her. She loved my brother, but she seemed to love their baby even more. So much so that she had left everything she knew behind her so that she could try to learn more about the child, so that she could protect it. So much so that she would turn her back on Edward when he had threatened it with his harsh words. He hadn't seen how much she didn't care about saving herself as long as the baby would survive. He was too blinded by his fears to truly _see_ her. But I wasn't. I had been watching. And after I was done, after she had left, I cast all of _my _fears aside and accepted Isabella Swan as my newest sister.

Only now I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to tell her. I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to explain the way I had acted toward her, apologize. I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to confide in her how much I understood the love she had for her baby because it mirrored the sense of loss I felt over the children I could _not_ have. There were so many things I wished I could say, to both Bella and my brother, but as I continued to watch them, I realized that now was not the time. I refused to be the one to encroach upon Edward's time with his new family in the devastating event that these were the last moments that he had to spend with Bella, or with their child.

Unfortunately, the possibility of losing Bella and the baby was a constant worry now that Carlisle had met with our family and discussed the immediate threat to their lives if we didn't soon find a way to nourish them. I could tell our father struggled to find the right words as he told Edward that there may come a time when they would have to remove the child from Bella in order to try and save her life.

Delivering the baby early might not be threatening except that no one had any idea of just how developed the child was because none of the tests Carlisle had performed were giving him definitive answers. So far, all we knew was that the child was encased in a hardened sac that was very similar to the structure of our stone-like skin, and that it had grown in about two weeks to the size that a normal mid-second trimester human child would be. The chances of the child being developed enough to survive were not favorable, especially not after Victoria's assault.

As he listened to Carlisle speak, Edward's head fell into his hands, where it remained for the duration of the family meeting. Esme had gently rubbed reassuring circles over his tensed back, whispering words of comfort to her favorite son that were inaudible to my own ears. But he could not be comforted, and every so often, as I watched him, I saw his body shake in tearless sobs. Edward and I had certainly had our share of personality clashes and disagreements, and there were surely times when I wished ill things upon him, but they were always trivial; I would not wish this magnitude of grief on my worst enemy, and it was devastating to see it experienced by my brother, seemingly over and over and over again.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Victoria was a significant causative factor in this unpleasant scenario, and I definitely hated her enough to wish this amount of pain upon her. I desperately hoped that when Jasper and Emmett returned, they brought good news of Victoria's dismembered body burning to ashes in a raging fire. In my opinion, she would be getting off easy if she suffered that fate. But at least Edward and Bella would be safe again, and our family could focus on each other instead of its external threats.

A few minutes passed as I continued to observe them, and then I heard my father and Conner approaching. They were murmuring amongst themselves as they walked quickly down the hall toward Bella's room, their words indecipherable, but their excitement seemed to be radiating from their every movement.

"What's going on?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity as they opened the door to Bella's room and Edward's head snapped up at the sound.

"We think we might have figured out a way to help Bella and the baby," Carlisle stated, the hint of a hopeful smile on his lips. Edward perked up. He looked at our father, his expression slightly less solemn, but his face was still extremely serious. It seemed as if he was afraid to get his hopes up too high in the event that whatever plan they had created would fail. "Well, actually, it was all Conner's idea, but I fully agree with him. We just wanted to let you know before we started to switch over the feeding tubes."

Edward's expression soured for a brief instant when he learned of Conner's part in the idea, but the bitterness disappeared so quickly that I was left to wonder if I had just imagined it. "What is it? At this point I'd be willing to try anything to get some food into them." He ran his hand through his disheveled hair and looked to Bella's bandaged face as he waited for one of the doctors to respond. He looked so exhausted, almost as if he had suddenly reverted back to being human, and the decades of sleep he hadn't been getting as a vampire had crashed into him like a speeding freight train.

"Well, I was thinking about how we were trying to get food to Bella and her body just wasn't taking it in. So I started to wonder if the baby is somehow blocking her from getting the nourishment that she needs. If that is the case, and I'm not certain that it is, but it could be, then maybe the baby is doing that because it isn't getting the nourishment _it_ needs. Maybe it is hungry for something that we just aren't giving it. Or, rather, thirsty." Conner's eyes were shining as he stated his theory; he looked as if he had just cracked the secret code to all of the scientific mysteries of our time.

"That's brilliant," I said after I turned his idea over in my head for a moment. "Maybe the baby takes after his daddy more than his mommy when it comes to food." Edward sucked in his breath and his serious expression glazed over somewhat as I spoke. I couldn't help but smile at the way he looked, despite the dire circumstances we were in. I suspected that it was the first time anyone had spoken of the child and referred to him as its "daddy", and he seemed to be taking the new term in and giving his mind time to wrap around it. I felt a slight pang that Bella hadn't been able to share in the moment, and as I saw Edward's now-saddened gaze shift back to the mother of his child, I imagined that he had been thinking the same thing.

After a moment of looking at her, he shifted his eyes back to Carlisle and said, "It's a plausible hypothesis. Let's try it out."

_**Victoria's POV**_

I had to admit, this girl had an evil mind. I liked that. I was becoming increasingly thankful that when she had caught up with me and we had participated in a slight bit of sparring, she had been able to catch my attention enough to spoil my instincts to kill her. I believe the line she used went something like, "I hate Edward and Bella and I want them dead as much as you do." That was certainly enough to stop me in my tracks and at least hear her out.

Her plan for take two of destroying the annoying girl—and the rest of the human-loving Cullens—was rather ingenious. Given time, I may have come up with it myself, but I had been slightly preoccupied with escaping the clutches of an angry hoard of vampires that I hadn't really progressed to planning a second round of killing Isabella.

Actually, I hadn't even known it was necessary, considering that the beating I had given the human girl should have been more than sufficient to have killed her by now. Oh well, I had no qualms with trying again, though I did hope that I wouldn't have to go back for a third round. If I had Tanya's help, it shouldn't be that difficult to extinguish the human and her vampire lover. And I would even be able to have a spectator seat to watch as they burned for the evil they had committed against me. I wondered if they had ever stopped to think that one of their own might turn against them, might be the very thing that brought on their demise.

I wondered just long enough to make me a little bit leery of trusting this Tanya. It seemed unlikely that the Cullens and their Alaskan friends would have had time to devise an elaborate plan to get back at me for hurting their human "family member" but it also wasn't entirely impossible, and, since my cautiousness had served me well in the past, I thought it might be a good idea to ensure that Tanya was speaking the complete truth when she said she hated Edward and Bella at least equally as much as I did.

I decided that I would test her to confirm that the words she had spoken were the truth. I stood in the middle of the woods, wondering what an adequate show of loyalty would be when the wind shifted and I smelled the scent of an approaching vampire. In the moments before the other vampire arrived, I lunged at Tanya, catching her off guard and putting her in a headlock before she had time to fend me off. "If you were truly being honest, this is your chance to prove it," I whispered in her ear. "In about ten seconds, one of your _friends_ is going to find us. If you want to work with me, the only show of faith I am asking is that you kill him. With my help, of course." I saw him running at us and when he was no more than five feet in front of me, I released her.

_**Edward's POV**_

I was starting to believe in miracles again. It had been about an hour since we had attached the first bag of human blood to Bella's feeding tube, and after the third helping had been drained, the color appeared to be returning to the parts of Bella's skin that weren't wrapped up in white bandages, and her breathing and heart rates had gotten stronger. If this really worked, if Conner had discovered the key that saved the lives of Bella and my baby, I vowed to forget how much of an asshole he had been and give him whatever he asked for as my show of gratitude. _Except Bella _I thought to myself. No, I would not give him Bella.

It was as if my entire family was playing the waiting game. Now that Bella's condition seemed to be improving, everyone was gathered in her room, willing her to open her eyes. I was thankful for their support, but at the same time, I missed the quiet conversations I had been having with Bella. I felt as though I could talk to her forever and never have enough time to tell her how much she means to me. But, I hoped, there would be plenty of time for us to be alone together once she recovered. And that time would be even better because she would talk back to me.

I took my seat next to Bella's bed and brushed my fingertips against her cheek for what felt like the millionth time since she had been wheeled into this room. No matter how often I did it, though, I always had the desire to touch her just one more time. The electricity was still there when our skin came into contact, the warmth was still there and I just couldn't get enough of it. But this time when I touched her, my angel's eyes fluttered, ever so slightly, and then, slowly but surely, she pried her eyelids open.

"Bella?" I gasped, a smile forming on my face for the first time in what felt like forever. But the smile quickly died as my head snapped to the doorway at the sound of Alice's scream. I saw her drop to her knees and the vision assaulted my mind. I could see it so clearly, I could see them ripping him apart. I could almost smell the smoke from the fire that was engulfing his body.

The perfection of the moment was gone, and all that was left was the pain. It seemed as if that was a never-ending part of what it meant to be in this family lately. I looked back to Bella, to make sure she was still with me, thankful that I could see her and hold her, thankful that I hadn't lost the most important thing in my life. And then I looked at my sister and my heart broke into a million pieces. Because she just had.


	16. SET ME FREE

**You have reached the darkness danger zone. :) In the last chapter, Bella awakened, but her open eyes were accompanied by Alice's screams. Alice had a vision of a Cullen Death, and we learn more about it in this chapter. If you read through this, and you hate it enough to stop reading, I thank you for making it this far. If you are up for the angsty challenge of continuing on, my love and thanks to you as well. I hope you will all continue to read, because at some point, this will make sense and things will get better. Onward, lovelies…**

**16 ~ Set Me Free**

"**It hasn't always been this way  
I remember brighter days  
Before the dark ones came  
Stole my mind  
And wrapped my souls in chains  
Now I live among the dead  
Fighting voices in my head  
Hoping someone hears me crying in the night  
And carries me away  
Set me free of these chains holding me  
Is anybody out there hearing me?  
Set me free  
Morning breaks another day  
Finds me crying in the rain  
All alone with my demons I am  
Who is this man that comes my way?  
The dark ones shriek  
They scream His name  
Is this the One they say will set the captives free?  
Jesus, rescue me****"**

_**Set Me Free **_**by Casting Crowns**

**Thursday, October 6 to Friday, October 7**

_**Tanya's POV**_

Victoria held me in a headlock and as I struggled to break free, I started to panic. I had been so worried about her trusting me that I hadn't stopped to consider whether or not I could trust _her_. At first, I was worried that she had decided she would prefer to work alone and I had just set myself up to be an easy kill. Then I listened to her words about a show of faith and he came darting into view. My mind blanked out from shock as her words sank in. She expected me to kill him.

My thoughts restarted in a frenzy, repeating over and over again that this was not what I had wanted. Yes, I was quite put out with Carlisle's entire coven for allowing the girl to enter our world, but my quarrel was pointed. I had chosen two targets and I was quite content to focus my rage solely on Edward and his filthy human companion. It was _his_ fault for allowing himself to fall for that despicable creature. It was _him_ who I blamed for endangering my family. It was _him_ that I wished to punish. My intentions had never been to pick off the Cullen's one by one.

Because I had the ability, on some level, to sympathize with them. If any of my sisters had fallen for one of the human males we frequently enjoyed ourselves with, I could see how I might be able to _temporarily_ overlook the danger that such a relationship would bring upon the family in lieu of seeing my sibling happy. Then again, the time would always come in such a situation where I would put my foot down and demand that the relationship be ended. I would not allow it to continue to a point where it became a major threat to our existence. The Cullens had yet to make such a demand of Edward; perhaps they were more culpable than I had originally perceived.

But were they so at fault that I wished them to die? Would I really be able to accept the repercussions that killing one of them would bring? If I went on a Cullen killing spree, I would be making a very powerful enemy of a very close friend and his family, and I was fairly certain that it would turn my own coven against me. What good would come of me protecting them from suffering the same fate as our mother if, in the end, they despised me for my methods?

Victoria had released her stronghold around my neck and was waiting for me to react, but I hadn't finished thinking yet. She had supplied me with two possible courses of action and not nearly enough time to consider the pros and cons of each one. The first option was to do as she asked: surprise him, attack him, _kill_ him. Then I could turn my attention to ending the lives of the people I truly hated. But in the process of getting my revenge, I might lose my family. The second possibility was to turn against Victoria, and give Edward what he wanted by joining forces with his brother and destroying her. I hesitated a moment too long, standing in between the two enemies like a frozen statue, still deciding which side I wanted to be on.

"Tanya, what are you doing? Get out of the way," he growled at me, his gaze shooting venomous daggers at the woman behind me. But I remained where I stood, paralyzed by indecision.

Then Victoria spoke, and his gaze slowly fixated on me. "Oh come now, Tanya," she hissed. "What happened to all that hatred of Edward and his precious Isabella that you were just telling me about? Did you experience a change of heart? Do you suddenly _not_ want them to pay for what they have done? I must say I'm quite shocked. You seemed so delighted when I described how heavenly Isabella's screams sounded every time I broke one of her bones. What a shame. I was really starting to look forward to continuing the attack with you as my partner."

I looked directly into his eyes and I watched as his confusion turned to rage when he realized that Victoria spoke the truth. I had contemplated denying it, but I somehow knew he would never believe me. What she had spoken was the truth, after all; if it hadn't been, I would have immediately turned on Victoria and attacked her for voicing such slanderous thoughts. But I had not and my lack of reaction was the only confirmation he needed to deduce that I was now his enemy.

I realized, then, that my two options had diminished into one. Perhaps I was a fool and there had never really been two choices anyway—it didn't seem as though Victoria was the type to leave the future up to chance. Either way, I knew what I had to do now. "I'm sorry, Emmett," I stated emotionlessly, and then I lunged at him.

_**Edward's POV**_

_Maybe I was getting ahead of myself_ I thought as I glanced back at Bella, her beautiful doe eyes becoming my mind's sole link to reason. She was the proof that I needed to cling to now; she was here with me, alive and on her way to being well when, on numerous occasions, my sister's visions had predicted her death. I dared to hope that, as with those times, Alice's vision moments ago was simply a possibility of what could happen if we didn't fight like hell to change it. And I blatantly refused to believe that we wouldn't be able to. I had just barely gotten Bella back; I couldn't accept the idea that I might lose my brother.

It seemed so impossible that he, or any of us, really, could _die_. I supposed that after living so many years with the constancy of my family, it had started to feel as though that was the way it was always going to be. I realized now how foolish it was, but I, as well, it seemed, as the rest of my family, had come to think of us all as an almost invincible entity; we were so protective of each other that we believed our bond as mates and as a coven to be indestructible. But our immortality was not absolute. Just because we _could _live forever did not mean that we _would_. Despite our arrogance, when it all came down to it, every member of my family was no less vulnerable to death than Bella.

And now I could only pray that our similarities to the fragile angel that lay before me did not end with vulnerability; I fervently hoped that we could also emulate her resilience, her ability to survive regardless of how strongly the odds were stacked against her. She had been battling fate, it seemed, from the moment I had met her, but, somehow, by some miracle, she was still here. I had dueled with destiny many times over to keep her alive; I would do the same to save my brother.

Alice collected herself enough to stand and swiftly exit the room, and as much as I longed to stay with my sweet Bella, I knew my sister needed my support right now. Being the bearer of bad tidings was not a painless responsibility, and sharing the heavy burdens that Alice was constantly carrying lately was nowhere near a sufficient repayment of my indebtedness to her for saving Bella's life.

I would find out as much information as she could divulge and then, if it was necessary—which I deeply hoped it would not be—_I_ would shoulder the crushing weight of knowledge so that Alice could be given time to deal with the images of his death. _I _would break the devastating news to my family. _I _would be the one to tell his wife that he was gone. Iwould become the cornerstone, the foundation, supporting my parents and siblings just as they had supported me when I thought I had lost Bella. And then, when they were all strong enough to relieve me of my accepted burden, I would allow myself to grieve for the loss of my beloved brother.

_But these were things I would do only when all hope was lost _I thought as I felt the burning heat from three pairs of intensely inquisitive eyes that were demanding an explanation for Alice's outburst. I knew what they expected of me; many times in the past when Alice had been the seer, through her thoughts, I had been the immediate interpreter of her visions. But not this time, not yet. I refused to cause my family undue panic until I had more concrete information from Alice's phone call to Jasper. As long as there was a chance that we could save Emmett, I would shield Rosalie from the nightmarish worry and despair. I had lived through those emotions more than enough times in the past year; I did not want any member of my family to have to know what it was like to feel that way.

Before meeting their stares, I leaned in closely to Bella and whispered, "I'll be back soon, angel. Alice needs my help right now. I love you." I kissed her cheek and gave her a small smile, then turned to the others. "Carlisle, I think Alice needs to speak with us." _What happened, Edward? Is she okay? _I heard my father ask in his thoughts, but I did not answer. Instead, my eyes touched on my mother and sister as I continued, "Esme, Rosalie—will you please keep an eye on Bella for a few minutes?" They nodded their consent and moved closer to the bed, forcing themselves to temporarily stifle their curiosity and focus their attention on my Bella.

I exited the room with Carlisle following closely behind me and located my sister at the end of the long hallway. She was pacing back and forth with one set of fingertips on her temple and her other tiny hand tensely holding the phone, which was in grave danger of being crushed into smithereens. Her lips were moving rapidly, but the volume of her voice was barely above a whisper and her thoughts were so jumbled that I could not hear her side of the conversation until I was standing directly behind her.

Her voice rose steadily as their conversation neared its end, the result of her imagination conjuring up all sorts of distressing images. "Do what you can. If you don't make it in time, you come right back here and _**we**_will go after them together. There will _**not**_ be two widows in this family on one day. If I see you fighting them _alon_e, so help me Jasper I will—" There was a brief pause as Jasper tried to reassure his wife that he would see her again, and then she continued, slightly calmer, "Okay. I love you, too."

She snapped her tiny silver phone shut and I quietly asked, "What did he say, Alice?" She paused her pacing feet for a split second to look from my face to Carlisle's as if she had been momentarily surprised by our presence. Her eyes were widened in fear and disbelief and her petite body was shaking from head to toe. My heart reached out to my sister. Her mind was a tangled mess; swirls of rapidly changing emotions were surrounding her constant watch on Emmett's future.

As much as she hoped that her husband would arrive in time to save our brother, she was also terrified of what would happen if he tried—and failed. The part of her that was crippled by the fear of losing Jasper just wanted him to run like hell away from the danger, which caused an onslaught of guilt that she had even contemplated leaving Emmett to face his darkened destiny alone. I understood her every thought, her every feeling and it angered me that she was even experiencing them. By my calculations, our family had been through more than enough in the past month; would it seriously be _that _unreasonable to expect an extended period of happiness rather than sorrow? Did we not deserve some sort of reprieve from sadness?

My bitter thoughts toward whatever sick, demented bastard was currently ruling the universe were interrupted by Alice's feverish voice. "They split up about ninety minutes ago. The snow and wind made Victoria's trail nearly impossible to follow, but they picked up on a split in Kate and Tanya's scents so they each took a direction. Jasper's running southeast toward Emmett right now to see if he can stop them." She again stopped her pacing, looked at me and asked the question that had been running through my mind since the vision had jumped from her thoughts to mine. "Why would she do it, Edward? I just don't understand." She was shaking her head, trying to make some sense of what she had seen.

As I was about to respond that I, too, wished to know the answer to that question, Carlisle demanded some answers. "Would either of you like to tell me what is going on?" He looked from Alice to me, then back to her again before he addressed my sister. "Alice, what did you see?"

I saw her mind replaying the dreadful images and she started pacing again, so I spoke up to try and keep her from going off the deep end. "She saw Emmett fighting against Victoria. And Tanya." I took a deep breath before I continued, "He wasn't winning. And then she saw him burn. Jasper's trying to get to them now to stop it from happening." My father looked shocked, as if he couldn't believe that what I said was true.

"Tanya?" he asked us. From his tone, you would think we had just accused Esme of attacking our brother. I supposed I could understand his hesitation to believe that Tanya would be capable of committing any foul act against our family; Carlisle had known her for nearly two hundred years and she was as much a member of his family as I was. For Carlisle to think of her as an enemy would not be easy. "But why would she be fighting _against_ us? She wouldn't—she couldn't—it's just—the vision has to be wrong. I just can't—"

Alice interrupted him, staring past us, her face twisted in pain. "It's not wrong," she stated simply. Her panic echoed through my thoughts. The vision was not dissolving, even as the distance between Jasper and Emmett was steadily decreasing. The passing seconds seemed to be strengthening the clarity of what she had seen rather than destroying it, providing more details of Emmett's death that neither she nor I wanted to witness. When the vision ended, the glazed-over appearance of her eyes was replaced by an emotionless front. She was already preparing herself to deliver the painful news. I heard the affirmation in her mind before she spoke it aloud. "He's not going to make it."

_**Emmett's POV**_

Well this was something I never expected. I mean, I knew Tanya had been jonesing for Edward for like half a century, but for her to be so pissed at him that she would team up with the psycho bitch of the universe to get revenge was a little over the top, even for her. It's not like she should have been shocked that Edward fell for someone else; he'd been turning down her advances since day one. I would have thought that somewhere along the line she would have taken the hint, but, apparently, in addition to being a little on the skanky side, she was also unbelievably dense.

But her downright nastiness and extreme ability to irritate had never been a sufficient reason to kick her ass, though I must admit, there were plenty of occasions when I had half-heartedly thought about it. I never would have acted on them, though, because up until about five seconds ago, she was still "family" by Carlisle's terms and I would never have seriously intended her harm out of a simple respect for my father. I had just always figured that every family had to have that one bad apple, that relative that you just had to tolerate because she was family even though the majority of you would rather ship her off to Neptune and pretend like she never existed.

But that was five seconds ago, before I found out the wench had been scheming to kill my brother and sister. Now I was just itching to make her, and that sadistic sprite of a redhead, a nice, big pile of ashes. I was pretty sure that once Carlisle learned about Tanya turning to the dark side, he wouldn't be _too_ upset about the fact that I wiped her off the face of the planet. Her sisters may be a different story, but, hey, she started it. I wasn't trying to go all preschool, but she did. She's the one who gave the ultimatum, she's the one that decided it was either her or Bella that had to go, and there was no way in hell I was going to let it be Bella.

Anyway, Tanya was probably lucky that I was going to be the one that made her say sayonara to this world; if Edward had found out what she had been planning before I got to her, well, let's just say I doubt he would be too happy about it. And by that I mean he would hunt her down, slowly rip her to shreds and probably watch her reassemble herself just so he could rip her to shreds again and again, all the while telling her how much she truly repulsed him and how strongly he loved Bella. He would make sure her death was long and drawn out. I was just going to make it simple: pull her apart and toss her sorry ass in the fire. Ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom, this world would be free of one more conniving, two-faced whore. Good riddance.

When Victoria's voice went silent, I watched both women carefully to see who would attack first. I anticipated Tanya's lunge, and was able to dodge her advance and then grab hold of her arm and swing her into a nearby tree. The impact between her body and the sturdy tree trunk made a satisfying cracking sound and I turned to attack Victoria before Tanya had time to recover. Before I could take the offensive against the redheaded demon, however, Tanya was back on her feet and slicing through the wind in my direction, and I had to revert my attention to her oncoming attack.

Thanks to my frequent sparring with Jasper, Tanya's every action was easy to anticipate. For about three minutes, we followed a pattern of Tanya attacking and me throwing or punching her into something. Despite her complete lack of fighting experience, she certainly managed to bounce back quickly and it was really pissing me off. I was trying wear her out so I could just rip her apart quickly and throw her on a pile to set ablaze. I didn't want to have some long drawn out fight with the tramp. I had bigger fish to fry, or, should I say, more dangerous vampires to kill. I hated being on the defensive side of things, but I couldn't initiate an attack against Victoria, the real threat, because Tanya-the-fucking-energizer-bunny-of-vampires just kept coming and coming and coming.

But the strange thing was, Victoria just stood there and watched instead of joining in the fight. Every time I caught a glimpse of her face, she had this wicked smile lingering on her lips and I had to admit it was pretty fucking creepy. Part of me was anxious that she was just going to run off and I would lose the opportunity for payback but she just stood there, motionless, watching, _waiting_. I tried to think through possible scenarios of exactly _what _she might be waiting for. Maybe she was trying to learn my fighting style. _Good luck with that one, bitch-woman_ I thought. I have no fight style. I'm a go-with-the-flow type of guy; if I see an opportunity to kick some ass, I just take it.

It wasn't until Tanya was running toward me again—freakshow bunny from hell—and I heard Victoria speak that I realized what she had been doing. "That's enough now, Tanya. I'll handle this. And the next time I tell you to do something, I expect you won't hesitate. If you do, I might just let your adversary win that match." So that's it. She had been teaching Tanya a lesson; she had been _allowing_ me to rough her up a bit so that the roles in their new partnership could be established. It was just too bad that soon both members of their new group would be dead.

I was smug about this fight; I didn't see any reason that I couldn't win. I was definitely stronger than both of these women and the fact that it was two against one would just make this otherwise dull battle a little more interesting. I turned to face Victoria as her words ended, but she was already upon me, faster than I had ever given her credit for and in one swift movement her razor-sharp teeth sank into the skin of my left shoulder. I flung her off of me as a string of curse words exited my mouth and I looked to see that a fairly large chunk of my arm was now missing. That bitch! She was going to pay for that!

I lunged for Victoria, my anger impairing my ability to assess the possible danger from my other opponent, and right before I reached her, I felt Tanya's mouth crunch into my upper torso. I tried to pick her off of me, but she was just out of my reach and before she released my back, taking a piece of me with her, Victoria was on me, once again biting for my shoulder.

Perhaps I shouldn't have been so overconfident. Victoria had fighting experience and it showed. The best way to incapacitate one of us was to remove the upper limbs, severely limiting any ability to defend against an attack, and that was precisely what the redhead was trying to do. And Tanya was a fast observational learner, unfortunately, not nearly as dense as I had thought. I struggled to fight them off, but my left arm had taken a serious chomping so I was essentially one-armed and trying to fight off two irate female vampires. Things were not going well.

For the first time in my life, my pride deflated and I wished that Jasper were here to help me out. If I ever made it out of this, I would certainly never admit it to him, but I could seriously use some of his killer southern hospitality right about now. As I felt the pain of Victoria's teeth once again gnawing at my shoulder and the limb was severed from the trunk of my body, I was starting to seriously reconsider my predicted outcome to this fight.

I was in no way giving up; I had way too much to live for. There were so many things I needed to say to Rose. Our relationship had a tendency to get a little physically carried away sometimes, so much so that I never really got around to saying how much she meant to me outside of the pillow talk. And it was important that I tell her when things were serious. I needed her to know how much loving her has completed my existence. I needed the chance to tell her. And I needed to look over my family. I had to make sure that Jasper kept Alice's exuberance in check and that Edward and Bella finally got their happy ending. I was the big brother, the protector; it was my responsibility to _be there_. There were so many things I still wanted to do in this world. These couldn't be my final moments. They just couldn't.

With every ounce of strength my body possessed, I fought against my attackers. I fought for all the things they were trying to take away from me. I growled and I punched and I kicked and I prayed. I had never been on the losing end of a fight before. Too quickly, I had transformed into the inexperienced participant in this brawl, and, big, tough guy that I am, I was scared shitless. I smelled the fire before my eyes rested upon the newly flickering flames. _This was not how it was supposed to be_. I watched as Victoria picked up my separated arm and held it over the glowing fire, the menacing smile returning to her lips as she observed me fighting to free myself from Tanya's clenched mouth. She was waiting for me to acknowledge what she was about to do, she was waiting for me to beg. _I wasn't ready for this._

I didn't give her the satisfaction of a plea for her to stop; I saw no point since I knew she would still let my arm fall. I just watched in agony as the flames engulfed the stone kindling that had once been a part of me. I still tried to fight against Tanya's bites; I wanted to live even though I knew I would never again be whole. The fire was turning part of my body to ashes, but I was still alive. I needed to stay alive. I wanted to—

But the burning sensation ripping through my entire body was excruciating and it severely limited my defensive faculties. Every inch of my body felt like it was being set ablaze even though my arm was the only part of me that was truly burning. My eyes went fuzzy and I started to lose my sense of equilibrium. I felt my other arm being chewed to bits and then it, too, was disconnected from the core of my body. I couldn't see when one of the two devil women placed it on the fire, but I could feel it because the burning feeling intensified to almost unbearable proportions. I tried to tolerate the pain, tried to keep myself from admitting the magnitude of hurt, but the fire within me was like a demon twisting and turning and pulling me apart from the inside, begging to be freed and I couldn't prevent myself from yelling out.

In that moment, I realized that the change from human to vampire was just a minor ache compared to the absolute torture of being burned to death piece by excruciating piece. I supposed that tidbit of information had never been whispered down the lane because all of the vampires that had experienced the sensation had died before they could tell anyone just how fucking much it hurt. I was grunting, snarling against the pain, trying to get away from it, but it engulfed me. I felt the tinges of numbness trying to take me over, but I fought them. I didn't want to slip away quietly. I had to keep fighting.

Victoria and Tanya were both wrestling with me now, bringing me to my knees. I tried to resist, my body wriggling about, but my attempt was futile. They started goading me, asking me if it hurt, telling me to beg them to take my life, laughing about how the mighty Emmett Cullen had been brought down by two girls. I was furious with them but more than that I was desperate. I didn't want to be mighty anymore. I just wanted to live. I just wanted to see Rose one more time. I plead with God, over and over again I plead with Him, but I refused to plead with _them_. I refused to completely give in to death when I very badly wanted to live.

But I was not a fool; I knew my time was running out. The two women broke away from me once my knees were on the ground and then I felt two hands touching my face. They were ice cold against my now-fiery skin, the extreme temperature difference intensifying my pain. One palm came to rest on my forehead and the other grasped below my chin. I knew what was coming and I chose not to fight the inescapable.

Instead I willed myself to relax. I willed my thoughts to overcome the fire. I pictured myself away from here, away from death. I did not want my last thoughts to be of fear. My family entered my mind, my thoughts touching briefly on every member of my coven, summing up in milliseconds how much they had each changed my life in months, years, how much I deeply loved them. Then I let my mind settle on my wife. I imagined the way it felt to hold her in my arms, to run my hands along her creamy skin. I imagined the sweetness of kissing her full lips, of nibbling on her earlobe just to hear the girlish laugh that she suppressed around everyone but me. I imagined everything I would miss. Then, as I felt the hands gripping my skin more tightly, beginning to twist, I whispered the words I wished Rose could have heard. "I love you, Rosie." They were short, simple words, but she would have known every thought, every feeling that went with them. Somehow, she always knew.

A maniacal sort of laughter broke through my thoughts, bringing reality crashing down upon me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and then my world went black.

_**Jasper's POV**_

I fought to control my emotions as I walked slowly through the automatic doors. This was a hospital, after all, too often a place of sorrow, a place whose occupants certainly did not need to be influenced by my current grief or guilt. On any normal day, I would have avoided such an establishment in order to protect myself from the ever-present temptation of human blood. But I doubted that any amount of the crimson liquor would entice me at this moment.

I felt no thirst, no draw to feed. My nose and throat were still too filled with the sickening aroma of our flesh when it has burned and become dust, making even the sweetest of bloods unpalatable. My eyes were still dwelling on the sight of the purple haze, still replaying the haunting memory that I created as I watched the dwindling flames burn out and it had finally sank in that he wasn't coming back.

I had wanted to follow their heady trail, seek vengeance for his death, but I had made a promise to my wife and I knew that my rage would have to wait for release until another day. Because there are very few things worse than making Alice angry. She was an energetic, sugar-coated sweetheart most days but on the rare occasions where I had crossed her, she became more terrifying than any army of newborns I had ever battled. And even if it hadn't been for my promise, I might have reigned in my anger for purely selfish reasons. I could in no way be certain that I could best our two enemies alone and I wasn't ready to say goodbye to Alice. I wanted more time with my wife. I needed her, now more than ever.

As I walked down the long hallway toward the east wing of the building, I tried to focus on numbing myself, on feeling nothing, but I couldn't help the thousands of "what if" questions that crept into my head. _What if I could have gotten there faster?_ Would I still have been too late to save him? _What if we hadn't split up?_ Would we have found them? _What if I had gone east and he had gone north?_ Would I have been able to defeat the two of them? _What if we hadn't come to Alaska in the first place? What if we had never left Isle Esme? What if we had never left _Forks_? What if we had never had a reason to? What if Bella had never entered our lives?_

As soon as the last question flowed into my mind, I took control and halted my absurd train of thought. The idea of Bella never having entered our lives was preposterous. She was exactly what Edward had needed, the light that had been missing from his darkened existence. Bella was to Edward what Alice was to me. She saved him from himself, helped him become a better person, just as Alice had bounced into my life and saved me. I would not allow myself to even contemplate a reality where she had not become a part of our family. This situation was not Bella's fault, nor was it Edward's, nor was it mine. It was Victoria's and _Tanya's_. I _knew_ that, it was just extremely difficult to _accept_ it.

I was nearing Bella's room, drawing closer to my family and the inevitable sorrow that my arrival would bring. I would never be ready for this, but I forced myself to act like I was anyway. I forced myself to be strong, to be hardened, to be stoic. Not everyone in our family could fall apart at the same time; I would just have to wait my turn and attempt to use my gift to make this tragedy survivable.

Both Alice and Edward had been expecting me; I could tell by the way there eyes were constantly darting out the window and into the hallway as I stayed out of view and peered into the room. Carlisle and Esme were in one corner speaking to Conner while Alice, Rosalie and Edward were gathered by Bella's bedside. I knew I could put this off no longer, even though that was what I desperately yearned to do. I took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping quietly inside the room as every pair of eyes, including the sleepy brown ones that belonged to Bella, looked at me.

I felt a surge of joy that Bella was awake, but it was short-lived and I struggled for an instant to regain control of my emotions as the feelings of everyone around me flowed through my body. I sifted through the confusion and the pain and attempted to focus all of my energy toward just one of the room's occupants. I felt Alice's arm wrap itself around mine, but I could not bring myself to look at my wife. My eyes were locked with _hers_, and as the seconds passed, the rest of my family followed my gaze.

I saw her glance past me a few times, as if she were expectant, then searching. We all knew who she was looking for and a few of us knew that she would never find him. I had thought about what I would say numerous times on my journey to the hospital, but now that I was actually face to face with my typically cold and apathetic sister, I found myself speechless. Because if there were one emotion that I had felt from her on numerous occasions, it was the love she had for Emmett. I didn't want to feel what I knew would be coming. I wanted to take Alice and run far away to somewhere that our gifts could no longer hurt us. But that was not the way of our family. We would just have to move on, however difficult that may be. We would have to endure.

I felt her emotions shift from confusion to worry as she realized that we were all staring at her, each of our expressions a different level of sadness. I saw her mouth open and close a few times, as if she wanted to speak but she couldn't form the proper words. Her worry changed to panic and then she asked the question I had been dreading. "Jasper, where's Emmett?"


	17. FIRE AND RAIN

**If you are reading this chapter, I'm guessing you survived the loss of a beloved character at the evil hands of Victoria and Tanya. In this chapter, we will hear from his wife, and also get some insight into Bella's reaction to this new event…**

**17 ~ Fire and Rain**

"…**They let me know you were gone…  
The plans they made put an end to you…  
Won't you look down upon me, Jesus  
You've got to help me make a stand  
You've just got to see me through another day  
My body's aching and my time is at hand  
And I won't make it any other way…  
Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain  
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end  
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend  
But I always thought that I'd see you, baby, one more time again"**

_**Fire and Rain **_**by James Taylor**

**Friday, October 7**

_**Rosalie's POV**_

I had noticed Alice and Edward's incessant glancing out of the room's window over the past few minutes and it was beginning to severely tick me off. Out of all of us, those two had been the closest to Bella, the ones she felt most comfortable with. _They_ should be the ones showering her with their complete attention since she was now awake and appeared to be faring well as she was being nourished by her new and improved vampiric diet. _I_ would probably cause her to question her sanity if I suddenly started treating her like I should have been all along, like a sister, but if these two didn't shape up soon, I was just going to have to risk her sanity and take matters into my own hands. _Someone_ needed to reassure her that she was a permanent part of us, that she was loved and wanted and _protected _from the many things and people in this world that seemed hell-bent on destroying her. Sure, Edward and Alice were feigning happiness, but their act was so obvious that I'm certain even Bella had managed to figure it out. She deserved better than half-hearted smiles and falsely cheery conversation. She deserved something _real_.

But ever since Alice had experienced her mystery vision, pretending was all my brother and sister seemed to be capable of doing. Perhaps if they would enlighten the rest of us as to what future event Alice had witnessed, I might be able to understand their distractedness. I had to admit, I was intensely curious about it, but it wasn't the first time that those two had communicated on a mental level and chosen to keep the rest us in the dark, so it couldn't have been _that _bad. Especially if they had told Carlisle and he had decided it was something that didn't need to be shared. As much as I hated to admit it, they typically had a legitimate reason for delaying the family future information sessions, so I resolved to just try to be patient until the gifted ones decided us laypeople deserved to know what was going on.

And until then, I was going to have to try extremely hard to control my temper. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to pull Edward aside and not-so-delicately remind him of how many times he had almost lost Bella in the past couple of weeks and how it was time he focused on her and started showing her just how much she meant to him. Because she was still a little uncertain about him. Yes, she let him kiss her now without complaint but Edward hadn't even considered that it could very well be because she was too weak to hit him again. I could see it in her eyes that she was still fearful of him, of all of us, really, and I didn't want to finally be happy about gaining a human sister just to have her slip away because my idiot brother was too blind to see that he wasn't quite out of the danger zone. Their relationship was like a little canoe with a multitude of holes in it. The water was flowing in, threatening to sink it if they didn't start repairing the damage as soon as possible. So Edward had better stop his preoccupation with whatever Alice had seen and start plugging up those damn holes.

It was completely uncharacteristic behavior for me to be so concerned about people and relationships outside of myself and my own marriage, but I had just about had enough of everyone else in my family being sad all of the time. Emmett and I had such a long-running streak of happiness and I thought it was high time that all the other couples joined us in the land of bliss instead of staying stuck in this rut of misery and mayhem that had accompanied the month of September. Besides, we all had something to be joyful about now. In a few short weeks, per Carlisle and Conner's estimate, our family would have a miraculous little addition. For so many years, the idea of having a baby in our home was a dream I tried to refrain from thinking about lest it intrude upon the happy life I had managed to build with my husband. It was always something that I had wanted, but I had accepted it as an impossibility. Until now. Now, anything was possible thanks to Bella. She was giving us all, my brother especially, an amazing gift. And I didn't want anyone or anything to muck up this once in a lifetime experience for our family.

I could barely contain my excitement over the baby, my mind flying this way and that, imagining the child, _my little niece or nephew_ I thought with a smile, when I heard the door click open and my eyes lifted from Bella's face. I watched as Jasper entered the room. As _only _Jasper entered the room, and I think it was in that moment that I somehow knew. My brain instantly denied what my heart had already accepted as a certainty as my eyes looked beyond my brother, out the open door, through the window, waiting for my husband to waltz into the room in all his glory and tell us all how he had single-handedly defeated that evil woman. It was just the way Emmett was; despite his masculine exterior and tough guy façade, he was just a big old drama king who utilized every possible moment to grab the spotlight. It was one of the things I loved about him. I prayed with all my might that this was just like one of those numerous occasions where he had delayed his entrance for dramatic effect.

But seconds passed and he never came. My eyes met and locked with Jasper's for a second time, and I felt the heavy weight of my family's stares freezing me in place. The denial started to fade away slowly, the void left by its steady retreat quickly filling with fear and panic. The question left my lips, but I already knew the answer before I heard him reply. It had been written all over his face since the moment he had set foot in this room, but the cruelty of the reality he brought with him didn't seep into my consciousness until I heard him say the words. "I'm so sorry, Rose. He's gone."

I found myself looking past him and out the door again, waiting for Emmett to jump in front of me with a goofball grin and say "Gotcha". If only this were the case, after I finished hugging him and kissing him and touching him—all the while berating him for scaring me beyond words—we would need to have a serious conversation about topics that were and were not acceptable pranking material. I knew he would just get himself out of the doghouse with one of his irresistible puppy dog looks, but I didn't care. Everything would be alright as long as he was here. I waited again, searching for him, but he never came. This was not a joke. This was not funny. This was real. Too real. Too much.

I stopped breathing because my thoughts were racing so quickly that I couldn't focus on anything but them even though all I wanted at that moment was for my mind to shut down, to stop. I stared at the nothing outside of the door and imagined his smiling face. I imagined his voice, his laugh, his touch. All of the things that I would never again experience. The person I loved more than anything in this world was gone. And I never even got to say goodbye. I found myself wondering for a moment if it would have been easier to accept if I had, but I quickly determined that there was nothing that would have made this bearable.

I felt Edward pull me into a fierce hug, and when he released me moments later my other family members followed suit, whispering that it would be all right, that they would always be there for me. I had never felt more alone. Their words, their presence, this tiny room that was closing in on me more and more each second, they were all suffocating me, infuriating me. I pushed my family aside and raced out the door, attempting to escape from the force of grief that was crushing me. I didn't want their sympathy. I didn't want _them_. I just wanted Emmett.

I raced out of the hospital and into the woods, the snow-covered trees passing by in a blur, the freezing winter air that was whooshing past me perfectly mirroring the sudden bitterness and brutality of my world. About a mile into the forest, I stopped my run to give my fury an outlet. I punched and threw and growled and screamed at anything I could get my hands on, anything that might allow this miserable energy to get out of my mind and my body. Trees were uprooted as my hands found comfort in the cracking sound of every broken branch. Rocks were catapulted in every direction, pieces of them crumbling into dust as my hands squeezed tighter and tighter, seeking to end their rapid trembling.

I have no idea how long my environmental and self destruction continued, but at some point I dropped to the ground because in the blink of an eye the energy was gone and I no longer had the ability to stand. I sat with my knees pulled into my aching chest, rocking back and forth as sobs shook my body to the core. After a few minutes of rocking and bawling without the comforting release of tears, I looked heavenward, cursing all the gods and all the angels for taking my husband from me, demanding answers that no one was around to give.

Then I turned my thoughts to Emmett, yelling at my mind's image of him because it was all that I had left. I cursed him for never being able to turn down a fight no matter how dangerous it might have been. I cursed him for always feeling like he had to be the protector, asking him why he hadn't realized that he, too, needed to be protected. Then I cursed Jasper for still being alive, for leaving Emmett's side and dooming him to die alone. They were supposed to stick together, to look out for each other but Jasper had shown no signs of having been in a fight. Why hadn't he been there? Why had _he_ been spared?

My anger extended to Alice then because her husband was still alive when mine was not. She was supposed to look out for us, to watch for our futures, to know when bad things were coming so that they could be prevented. Why hadn't she seen _this_? Why hadn't she stopped _this_? She could come to Bella's aid at the drop of a hat; she could save _her _life every time it was at risk, so why couldn't she save Emmett's? I had just started to accept Bella as a member of our family, but at what cost had she joined us? Ever since the day she had entered our lives, they had been fraught with peril and problems. And now Emmett was gone. What good was gaining a sister if I had to lose my husband? Why should Edward's life finally be filled with happiness when his love for a weak human required our constant protection? Protection that resulted in the sacrifice of _my_ love, _my_ happiness. It would have been so easy to stop there, to place all of the culpability on the human who had set all of the painful events of the past few weeks into motion. It would have been so simple to point fingers and claim retribution. But my life now was far from easy and I still had one more person to rebuke: myself. I cursed _me_ for not trying to talk him out of chasing after Victoria, for not begging him to stay with me, for not telling him one more time that I loved him.

I had everyone to blame and no one to blame. The snippet of rational thought that remained in my mind knew that my family was not responsible for this. That rational part of me was Emmett's voice in the back of my mind, telling me to calm down, telling me not to push our family away when we had all fought for so long to stick together. But I couldn't calm down. I needed to find _someone_ to lash out at, someone to yell and scream and punch at. And, afterward, I needed an explanation, a reason for why this had happened. I knew who I should ask, who would, at the very least, be able to tell me _how_ it had happened if not _why_. But I wasn't ready to know everything just yet. I wasn't ready to let my imagination run wild with the detailed story of his death. I wasn't ready for the waking nightmare of my husband burning to ashes to overtake my mind, to rule my life.

I looked around at the clearing I had created, and my solitude crashed into me. I may not be ready to ask questions, but I was ready to be held in silence. At this point, I didn't really care who was doing the holding as long as there were arms wrapped around me to let me know that even though my heart would forever be lonely, I still wasn't completely on my own. I stood on wobbly legs and was about to turn back to the hospital, to my family, when the wind changed and I caught his scent.

This was the way Jasper had come. This was the path that would lead me to where Emmett's life had ended. This was the trail that would carry me to the place where I could say goodbye. I wanted to say goodbye to my husband. I needed to. I didn't think about anything at that moment. I just inhaled the surrounding air and started running.

_**Edward's POV**_

Rosalie had just run out the door and I was compelled by my understanding to go after her. I knew what it was like to lose the one person that made you want to keep on living. By some undeserved grace that I could not even begin to fathom, losing Bella had been a lie. But even though she was here, I still remembered what it felt like to think that she was gone from my life forever. I remembered what it felt like to fall to pieces, to be stuck in the grief of the moment that you found out while the world continues on around you.

I knew that my siblings and my parents might think that they could imagine what it would be like, what it would _feel _like, that they would be enormously compassionate and sympathetic. But until people actually experience that type of loss, that magnitude of anguish, they would not have even the tiniest fraction of comprehension. I was the only one out of my family that could truly grasp the crippling emotions Rosalie was feeling, so I decided that it was my responsibility to comfort her.

Understanding was not the only driving force behind my compulsion to follow Rosalie, though. I was also fraught with guilt over Emmett's death. This had not been his fight. This had never been anyone's fight but my own. It was _my_ fault that Bella had been placed in the dangerous situation that lead to James' death in the first place. It was _my_ fault that Victoria had been allowed to get away, to wallow in her anger and sadness to a point where she had decided that someone had to pay for his death. _I_ had been the one to leave Bella alone and defenseless and unprotected simply because I was afraid. I had nearly lost her so many times because of my own stupid mistakes, and now, because of my constant selfishness, because of my desire to be by her side, my brothers had gone chasing after Victoria instead of me. I knew that she was dangerous, I knew all of the horrible things she was capable of, and I knew who her vengeance was directed toward, who she truly wanted to fight. _I_ should have been the one chasing after her, seeking out revenge, not them.

Never mind that Jasper and Emmett had gone off of their own volition because they had wanted to protect our growing family. Their desire to bring Bella's attacker to justice was no excuse for me allowing them to fight _my_ battles. It would have saved him, if I had gone. I would have been able to hear Tanya's thoughts; I would have known her intentions before I had even reached them. I would have known not to trust her. I would have won, or, at the very least, I would have taken one of the two women down with me. Most likely, that woman would have been Victoria because my hatred of her for what she had done to Bella and my child was more than enough to enhance my physical limits. In the event that I had died, my family would have been able to take care of the leftovers. And at least I could have been satisfied that Bella would be safe, that our baby would be safe. I knew that my family would love them, look after them.

Now, instead, my brother was dead, leaving behind a broken family and a wife that had always been misunderstood by everyone except for her husband and me. But I only understood her as far as her thoughts could guide me; Emmett had known her on a completely different level, an intimate level; he had known the sweeter side of her that she kept locked away from everyone but him. I didn't know how she would survive without the only person she had ever truly opened up to. But she _would_ survive. I refused to be responsible for another member of my family leaving us, be it directly or indirectly. From now on, I would be accountable for the feud I had started. I owed Emmett, and Rosalie, that much. And if it cost me my life, well, at least I would be able to die protecting the people in this world that I held most dear: my Bella, our baby, and what was left of our families.

It killed me every time I thought of leaving Bella's side because the fear of losing her was still so fresh in my mind, but I trusted everyone in this room to make sure that she was taken care of in my absence. This was not a time for my selfishness to once again take control, to prevent me from helping my heartbroken sister. I would put Rosalie first for now because I would spend all the years to come making sure that Bella's every desire was fulfilled. She would be my top priority. _Then_. For now, I just hoped she would understand why she had been bumped down to the number two position.

Before I could whisper to Bella that I was leaving and beg for her understanding, Alice put her hand on my arm and said, "Edward, you shouldn't go after her." She glanced around the room at the rest of our family, her gaze resting marginally longer on Esme than on everyone else as she continued, "None of us should. The best thing for any of us to do right now is to give her some alone time to grieve."

I considered going against her advice for just a smidgeon of a second, but Alice must have seen my possible determination and she ferociously thought _Edward, do _**not** _go after her. Neither of you will benefit from it. Just give her some time._ Her added mental warning was unnecessary, though, because just after I had contemplated defying her, I had remembered what had happened on the numerous other occasions where I had not listened to her advice. None of them had ended well and I knew better than to test fate yet again. I settled myself back in the chair and focused my attention on Bella.

_**Bella's POV**_

I didn't know which way was up anymore. Ever since Edward had left me what felt like years ago, my life had been turned upside down so many times that being flipped inside out and stretched to my limits was beginning to feel normal. I had been on both a physical and emotional rollercoaster that had come to a screeching halt the moment that I had felt my subconscious pull me under, the moment that I had taken a temporary leave from this world so that my mind and body could recover from all of the damage that had been done.

I knew once I had awakened from it that I had slipped into a coma, but it had felt more like heaven to me. There was no pain or sadness there. No matter what happened, I was floating in a sea of contentment. I had rested there; I had tried to heal. And at almost every moment, I had listened to the angelic sound of Edward's voice. At first he had just talked to me, repeated over and over again that he loved me, that he loved our child. He confessed his reason for leaving me behind and told me that he would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for what he considered to be his greatest mistake. He apologized for everything that had ever caused me to be angry with him. He told me absolutely everything I had ever needed to hear. And then he had hummed my lullaby. It was beautiful and it brought me the most indescribable sense of peace.

I had never experienced such serenity, and on numerous occasions, I had almost allowed myself to drown in the feeling. But every time I got closer to letting myself go, I stopped hearing his voice and the peaceful feeling started to quickly fade away. I couldn't allow myself to let him go. He needed me and I needed him. So I fought to keep my head above the water, I fought to accept the peace while I maintained the will to return to him someday. I desperately wanted to see him, I wanted to open my eyes to look upon his face as his tender voice had requested on numerous occasions. But each time I had built up the courage to leave the peace behind, some unrecognizable force had pulled me back, forced me to question whether or not I was ready. Many times, I had realized that I was not, but this last time, I had wrestled with the fear that was holding me in limbo and I had won.

My eyes opened into tiny slits. It wasn't much, but it was progress and I was willing to take it. I could see light; I could make out shapes and shadows. I pushed a little more and the lids slowly lifted higher and higher until his breathtaking face came into view. I heard him whisper my name, and the smile that lit up his face when he looked at me was brighter than the morning sunshine. I tried to smile back at him, but I quickly realized that urging the muscles of my face to form that expression, or any other expression, was a very bad idea.

In an instant, reality intruded upon my previous state of paradise. All of the pain that I had not been feeling in my comatose world was suddenly upon me, and with it came an instant replay of why I felt like I had been run over by a never-ending freight train. All of the good feelings were gone; I was terrified, exhausted, confused and severely hurting. The abruptness of the change filled me with so much tension that I just wanted to scream.

The piercing sound filled the air and for a moment, I thought it might have come from me. I knew I wasn't the one who had made the noise, though, when Edward's head snapped away from me, and I slowly followed his gaze to see Alice's kneeling form. She looked horrified, her mouth still hanging open from her loud cry seconds before. In the blink of an eye, she had regained her composure, however, and was rushing out the door, clearly a woman on a desperate mission. After she left, I knew Edward was speaking to me, but I couldn't force myself to pay attention to him. I felt his soft lips graze my cheek and then he and Carlisle followed in his sister's footsteps. Esme's beautiful voice began flowing around me once Edward was gone, but all of the words that she spoke fell upon deaf ears.

Because my gaze was glued to the spot where Alice had been, my focus was completely consumed by the memory of her expression. I couldn't stop the panic that was welling up inside of me as I thought about the fear that I had seen in her eyes. Over the summer months when Alice and I had grown closer, I had done my best to study her face after her visits to the future. I had tried to learn what expressions she wore when her visions were happy or sad or dangerous so that I could differentiate between them, so that I wouldn't always be left clueless and in the dark. Alice had certainly not become an open book, but she was no longer a complete mystery, either, and I knew the look that I had just seen on her face. I had witnessed it only once before, last spring when she had seen the vision of me dying in the ballet studio. It was the look she wore when someone she cared about was in grave danger, when someone she loved was about to die. I couldn't help but wonder and worry over who she had seen.

My dark thoughts were interrupted as Conner entered the room, performed a short series of medical tests now that I was finally awake to respond to them, and replenished my dwindling pain medication. As the liquid slowly passed through the tube of the IV and the numbness flowed into the aching parts of my body, I forced myself to half-listen to the idle chatter exiting the lips of the two female vampires seated next to my hospital bed. But my eyes constantly flitted from their faces to the door as I waited for Carlisle, Edward and Alice to return.

It wasn't that I expected them to go into detail about whatever dangers the future had in store; I knew from past experiences that if it were bad, Edward, at the very least, would treat me like an overprotective parent does a child and try to shelter me from the harmful knowledge of the truth. It was a habit of his that used to drive me mad with frustration because it only supported my perception of our inequality, but I supposed that now, as I was on the verge of becoming a parent, I could understand his actions, in a way. I could not deny that I _was_ weaker than Edward in many aspects, so he felt a natural urge to protect me, just as our child was weak and innocent and I instinctively yearned to protect him at all costs. But one thing I learned from Edward, or should I say, one thing that my mental muteness had taught him, was how easily readable people could sometimes be when you searched the honesty in their eyes. True, vampires had quite the talent for hiding things, for masking every detail of their expression, but if I watched long enough, one of them would slip up. If I focused hard enough, I would see the truth and I would know just how bad life was going to get.

After a few long minutes passed, they re-entered the room. My mind fought the sedative effects of the drugs as Edward and Alice joined Rosalie at my bedside and Esme returned to Carlisle. My head was starting to feel fuzzy, my thoughts seeming to run in circles rather than logical linear pathways. I focused on Rosalie as her siblings sat down across from her and she looked at them questioningly before returning her surprisingly sweet smile to my face. Something wasn't right about that smile. It seemed too _genuine_, too _kind_ to be real. Rosalie hated me. Didn't she? Had I missed something? How long had I been asleep?

"Thirty-three hours, forty-seven minutes," I heard Edward's musical voice answer, and I realized I must have mumbled my question aloud. I brought my unfocused attention back to him, and even through the haze that was my mind, I realized that something was off about him, too. And Alice. Something was definitely not right about _all of them_. I just couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. I felt those soft lips on my cheek again and then they started telling me about what I had missed while I was in the coma, about my injuries and the baby and hunting down Victoria and moving and showers and nurseries and cradles and I think I aahhed and um-hmmed at all the right places but I couldn't be sure because everything was just so _fuzzy._

I was missing—something. I was, I was—so tired all of a sudden. My eyelids felt like they were being weighed down by a ton of bricks and I wanted so badly to close them and go to sleep. But no—I had just woken up. I wasn't ready to go back to sleep. Just yet. Because—because I needed to focus, to think about this. To figure it out. Their words, their faces, it was all _off_. It was too _happy_. Unrealistically happy. It was too _forced_. What was wrong here? I looked at the people in the room, at the smiles on the faces of Edward and Alice that didn't quite reach their guarded eyes as I blinked rapidly and tried to keep them in focus.

And then, somewhere, a coherent thread in my mind started weaving things together and amidst the murkiness of my brain, a dim light bulb started shining. They were _pretending_. They were _lying_. In a rush, I remembered all about lies. I remembered standing in a forest and suffocating as everything important in my life was revealed to be a lie. I remembered becoming the liar, hurting the people that I loved. I remembered seeing the liar again, listening to his perfect voice tell me about the lies that were lies and the truth that was love and everything was spinning around and around and tangled and torn and I didn't know what was happening to me.

My panic, my fear returned, and with them came a shred of attentiveness. Was this even real? I didn't know anymore; I didn't know who or what to believe. Painful tears formed in my eyes when I realized that I felt lost and alone despite the people surrounding me in this room. But they went unnoticed because someone had just walked through the door that captured the attention of everyone in this room, including me.

It was Jasper. I scanned the room, feeling like something was still missing. It took me a few tries, but I finally managed to get a headcount on the Cullens and I realized that one of them was not present and accounted for. My eyes moved to scan the room again, but as I looked around, I noticed that every set of golden irises were trained on one figure, so I followed their direction and my gaze rested upon Rosalie, who was now standing and staring at Jasper. The silence was maddening. My eyelids were growing tired of blinking, of waiting. I was ready for sleepy land. I was ready for my escape. I needed more time to recover.

My eyes were almost closed when I heard the low humming sound of Rosalie's voice. And then Jasper spoke and they snapped back open. He had said Emmett was gone. Seconds passed and then everyone was hugging Rosalie, whispering words too low for human ears to understand. And then she was running out the door. This couldn't be happening. There had to be some mistake. Rose was acting like Emmett was never coming back, like he had, like he had _died_. It was impossible. The Cullens don't _die_. They can't, they just, how? Why? It's just not—I couldn't even wrap my jumbled mind around it, it was so outlandish. They were immortal, they lived forever because—

But hadn't James also been a vampire, been immortal? And hadn't _he_ died? James. Thinking of him, picturing him made me cringe and my body ached again. Was the pain medication wearing off already? No matter, I needed to focus now, needed to figure this out. James had died because of me. And Victoria had tried to kill me because of James' death. Earlier words floated to the forefront of my thoughts: Edward had said that Emmett and Jasper had been chasing down Victoria ever since she had attacked me. As I heard Alice tell everyone to give Rosalie time to grieve, it finally sunk in. Emmett was dead. Victoria had killed him. And it was my fault. She killed him because Edward had saved me.

My fault, my fault, MY FAULT! Over and over again I was screaming it in my head; I wanted to scream it out loud, to get it out, but I couldn't because I was gasping, crying. Edward was looking at me worriedly, asking me what was wrong as he smoothed the few blonde hairs that I could see out of my eyes. What was wrong? _Everything was wrong!_ my mind shouted at him. For starters, he shouldn't be worried about _me_. That was what had gotten us into this mess in the first place: his constant fussing over _me_. I wasn't worth this. His family had welcomed me into their world with open arms and now I had managed to tear it to pieces. I had ruined everything. Just like Alice, I was a force of nature, but while she tried to make everything in the world go perfect and right, I inadvertently destroyed everything and everyone my life touched.

His Cheshire cat grin flashed across my mind and my tears flowed even faster. Why did it have to be Emmett? Why? He had so naturally followed in Edward and Alice's footsteps, accepting me as if I had always belonged in their family, treating me like I had always imagined a big brother would stick up for, and pick on, his baby sister. He had even, on a few occasions, threatened Edward when he was starting to become a little too overbearing, a little too overprotective. He had looked out for me and now he was gone and I was the one that had killed him. _I_ should have died last spring. No, I should have died lots of times before that. I was a walking, talking disaster and now, instead of just putting myself in danger, I had managed to jeopardize everyone around me, even the people who seemed so invincible to me. Edward always told me how fragile I was, how my life could end so easily, but I was still here, still alive when the immortal one, the big-hearted, tough, untouchable, cuddly, grizzly bear Emmett was dead.

My universe was whirling out of control. Nothing was right. I wanted to take his place; I wanted him to come back and make their family whole in ways that I never could. _It should have been me_ I thought over and over and over again as my tears lessened but continued to fall down my cheeks, stinging every time they passed across the eleven stitches that I had been told were holding the gash over my cheekbone together. "What are you talking about, Bella?" Edward's voice asked, his near-hysterical tone breaking through my inward chant and my almost inaudible mumbled gibberish. His face was blurred by my tears when I looked at him, and I couldn't bring myself to answer when I saw the pain in his distraught, dark eyes. The pain that I had caused. I looked away, unable to bear the sight of it anymore.

I felt it coming, recognized the feeling as it started drawing me under. I willed it to come faster. I longed for the peace I knew it would bring. This world, this pain, my life was just too much for me to handle. I shouldn't have come back. I was wrong when I thought I had been ready. I didn't know if I would _ever_ be ready. My eyes lost their focus and I felt myself gradually slipping away, I felt the gentle flow of tranquility seeping into every tiny crevice of my mind. "Bella, please. Answer me," I heard him plead from somewhere far away. "Stay with me, Bella." His voice was a whispered sob and it broke my heart. I needed to stop hurting him, hurting all of them. I needed to just get it over with. I needed to—

Suddenly, my negative thoughts were invaded by the roaring sound of the accelerating heart rate monitor. The tranquility abruptly stopped, withdrawing completely from my brain and body and I was slammed back into reality as my stomach throbbed and my breathing momentarily stopped at the searing pain. I felt something warm and liquidy flowing out of my body as the pain in my abdomen pulsed repeatedly and I realized that I remembered this. Or, rather, I remembered reading about this, and worrying about what it would feel like to go through it alone.

But I wasn't alone now; I was surrounded by faces that were suddenly focused on me, surrounded by frantic, velvety voices trying to figure out what was happening to me. I should have been comforted by their presence but I couldn't feel relief at this moment. All I could do was try to breathe through the panic and pain because everything that was happening to me right now indicated that the baby was coming. It was too early and I was too weak and too broken and I didn't know how I was going to do this. I didn't know how to be a mother and I didn't want to bring my child into a world that I had made so dangerous to everyone I cared about.

I felt like I was hyperventilating and my mind was going into overdrive, mere seconds away from exploding. I tried to move my hands to surround my stomach, tried to make the pain go away, but the movements made me cry out in agony instead. I had forgotten that any shift in my body would aggravate some part of me that had been injured, and my cast and bandaged arms were no exception. I closed my eyes as my nostrils flared and my teeth clenched and I tried to slow my rapid breathing, tried to regain some sort of control over the things that were happening to me. I felt his cool hands surround my cheeks and my eyelids flashed open. His face was mere inches above mine, worry invading every single one of its beautiful features. He spoke again, his struggle to remain calm evident in his strangled tone. "Bella, love, please, please tell me what is wrong."

For a brief moment, my swollen body stopped pulsing and the only aches I felt were from the injuries that Victoria had inflicted. It was still excruciating, but compared to what I had just experienced, this was tolerable. I opened my mouth to speak, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat, choking over it as I choppily whispered, "The baby. It. Too soon." His expression became confused so I continued, wincing at the pain of moving my lips, "'s coming. Edward. _Now_. Too early." His eyes widened and he glanced repeatedly between my stomach and my face, as if he understood but was having difficulty accepting what I had said. He spoke again, but the sound of his voice was muffled as my own cry reverberated through my ears because the pulsing soreness had returned. I desperately struggled to endure the pain, wishing all the while that I had stayed in my happy place just a little bit longer.


	18. SILENCE

**In the last chapter, Rosalie is pissed and heading to the site of the ashes, and Bella says the baby's coming. Let's hear more from Rose and the parents-to-be, shall we? Enjoy…**

**18 ~ Silence**

"**Give me release  
Witness me, I am outside  
Give me peace  
Heaven holds a sense of wonder  
And I wanted to believe  
that I'd get caught up  
when the rage in me subsides  
Passion chokes the flower until she cries no more  
Possessing all the beauty hungry still for more  
Heaven holds a sense of wonder  
And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up  
When the rage in me subsides  
In this white wave  
I am sinking  
In this silence  
In this white wave ... in this silence ...  
I believe I can't help this longing ...  
comfort me I can't hold it all in ...  
if you won't let me ...  
Heaven holds a sense of wonder  
And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up  
When the rage in me subsides  
In this white wave  
I am sinking  
In this silence  
In this white wave ...  
in this silence I believe I have seen you ...  
in this white wave you are silent  
You are breathing in this white wave ...  
I am free****"**

_**Silence **_**by Delerium feat. Sarah McLachlan**

**Friday, October 7**

_**Rosalie's POV**_

The trees were flying by, their numerous branches striking and snapping against my marble skin because I could not find it within myself to make an attempt to avoid them. It wasn't as if they could hurt me; instead they served as a subtle reminder that I was still alive. I really could have done without the reminder, though, because, at the moment, I wasn't so sure that being alive was anything to be thankful for. As long as I was alive, I would remember. And as long as I remembered, I would hurt. What person in her right mind would be thankful for a future guaranteed to be filled to the brim with pain?

I slowed my frantic running pace to a hesitant walk when the sweet, putrid stench drifted into my nostrils. I knew the smell instantly, though I had never before been exposed to the scent of vampire ashes. Perhaps the recognition was innate, a survival mechanism that is learned during the burning initiation into vampirism, because I was instantly more alert, aware of the danger of the scent, aware of the permanence, the _fatalness_ that it carried. As the smell became stronger, it seemed to permeate every surface of my mouth and nose. It was too late to hold my breath, too late to prevent the smell and the taste of it from assaulting my painfully overactive senses, too late to stop the scent from being etched across my memory. The smell condensed within my throat to a point where I felt as if I was choking on it. I coughed and I gagged, trying to get it out of me, but it remained.

And then, when I thought I could take no more, my eyes drifted from the multitude of lightly dusted tree fragments to the ground and I saw it. The contrast between the circle of scattered ashes and the snow white ground that surrounded them was perfectly suited to the way I felt at that exact moment. I was akin to the darkened ruins while the world around me was bright, like the snow. And no matter how many brilliant flakes fell upon the ashes, the blackened ground could not be hidden, just as my plethora of happy memories could never fully suppress my devastation over the loss of my husband. I dropped to my knees in front of the charred wood and breezy ashes and reached out toward the grayish purple dust. I hesitated and drew my fingers back multiple times, unable to touch all that remained of my husband yet desperately longing to physically connect to him in some way, until, finally, I allowed my hands to rest on the cold, wet ground beside me.

Perhaps I had gotten in over my head with this little quest I had started. My goal had been to say a final goodbye, to gain some closure and comfort as my world was spiraling out of control. Now, instead of being calmed by the happy memories I had of my husband, instead of whispering into the wind hoping that it would carry my words to him, wherever he may be, the sight and smell of his fallen body was forcing my mind to create new images, false memories that were poisoning every thought I had of him, preventing my mouth from uttering a single sound. I tried imagining his face, his voice, imagining how he used to be, but my mind would only allow me to conceive the nightmare of his death.

The Emmett conjured up by my thoughts never smiled, and every word that left his mouth was fearful, pleading, screaming for the pain to stop. There was no semblance of the strong, indestructible man I had known in the image that would not leave my eyes. The Emmett I saw was frightened and alone and in pain, falling to pieces and burning in agony at the hands of a ruthless murderer that had no just provocation for her actions. She was fighting against us for vengeance when it was a member of _her_ coven that had started this feud. It was only right that James pay for the wrongs he had committed against our family last spring, and we had hoped after Victoria had eluded capture that eventually she would realize that and leave us in peace. But now it was clear that, no matter the cause or participants of the initial battle, this war between us was far from over. It had grown deceptively quiet just prior to exploding and claiming the life of its first innocent casualty. Emmett had never deserved his fate. He had never deserved to be pulled apart and consumed by flames of hatred and cruelty.

I did not know the details of the events that had lead to Emmett's death and I now wished I had asked my siblings to tell me what had happened. Because without the knowledge of the truth, my mind began picturing thousands of possible scenarios, most of them much more gruesome and drawn out than I hoped his death had been. The images of Emmett and Victoria's fight danced in the swirling white above the ashes, each scene more difficult to bear than the last. I gripped my head and closed my eyes tightly, begging aloud for the sound of his screams to stop. I repeated his name over and over again, trying to no avail to drown out his sounds with my own cries.

Then I felt two hands grip my shoulders tightly, roughly shaking me from my hurtful hallucinations as my eyes snapped open. I looked up and my gaze fell upon an unexpected face. "Rose? Rosalie! What happened?" Kate asked, her voice fraught with worry as she glanced between my face and the remnants of the fire.

I opened my mouth to answer her, struggling to convince my voice to cooperate, and, finally, I managed to whisper, "It's Emmett. Victoria—she—she killed him." Kate gasped and pulled me to my feet and into a fierce hug, softly attempting words of apology and sympathy and comfort. Her utterances were nothing more than a jumbled mess of hums and whirrs to my distracted ears, but the tightness of her embrace soothed the edges of my frazzled mind and trembling body. After a few minutes of holding me as I silently sobbed, she released me and I felt the loss of her consoling arms immediately. My fingertips brushed across my cheeks in a completely human gesture, illogically attempting to wipe away the tears that I could not cry.

I watched as she slowly took in the sights that surrounded us, wondering what she was searching for as her gaze flitted frantically to and fro. I received an answer to my silent inquiry when her eyes returned to me and she quietly questioned, "Have you—um—has anyone heard anything from Tanya?"

My brow furrowed in confusion as I tried to recall the last time I had seen or heard from Kate's sister. I faintly remembered Carlisle mentioning that Kate and Tanya had gone off in search of Victoria and my heart sank even further into the abyss. If Kate was asking about her sister, then, at some point in their journey to find the sadistic redhead, they had been separated. Victoria had been able to outfight Emmett, and there was no doubt in my mind that if Tanya had encountered her, she would certainly have suffered the same tragic fate as my husband.

But surely, if that had been the case, Alice or Jasper would have mentioned it. Wouldn't they? I silently prayed that Victoria had not murdered another blameless victim as I replied, "No, I haven't heard anything." I reached into the front pocket of my coat, pulled out my phone and dialed Alice's number as I continued, "But I'll see if Alice knows where she is."

_**Alice's POV**_

I heard Edward's alarmed voice and my head popped up from its resting spot on my husband's shoulder. I had been seated in his lap ever since Rosalie had run off, deeply satisfied by the unusual stillness of my body as long as it was cuddled up against Jasper's. I refused to allow my husband to move or talk or do anything except soothe me with promises that he was here and he was never going to leave me. The loss of Emmett had been a difficult blow and, in addition to the grief it had caused me, it had also filled my mind with an immeasurable fear of losing the man that I loved. The fear had me longing to stay comfortably wrapped in Jasper's gentle arms until the end of time, but the urgency of Edward's tone caused me to stand and when Bella cried out, I rushed to her side. Jasper quickly exited the room to fetch Carlisle and Conner, who, along with Esme, had moved to a small conference room down the hall to discuss everything that had been happening over the past few days and formulate plans for the future of our family.

At first, I searched my human sister's contorted face, and then I looked to Edward's for any indication of why Bella had shrieked. My brother was panicked, his eyes scanning every inch of Bella's bandaged body in hopes of identifying the cause of her sudden onslaught of screaming. But no amount of observation on either of our parts gave us a hint as to what was happening. Then she quieted down and the pained words she spoke caused my mind to jump start and go off in about a million different directions while Edward's had apparently been rendered useless from shock.

_Edward? Edward! EDWARD! _I mentally screamed at him, attempting to get through to his distressed brain so that he could focus on what needed to be done. I needed him to snap out of it because _I_ certainly had no idea how to go about delivering a baby. I noticed him shake his head slightly, as if to clear it, and then he soothingly whispered, "It's going to be alright, Bella. You're both going to be fine." Bella probably hadn't heard his feeble attempts at reassurance, though, because just as he had started speaking and the two doctors had entered the room, she resumed her cries. I noticed Jasper and Esme quietly observing from the room's empty corner, fear evident on both of their faces.

"What happened?" Carlisle asked, in full doctor mode as he stood next to me and began assessing Bella's condition.

"She said the baby's coming," Edward whispered, his eyes still widened in shock as he looked from our father to Bella's bulging stomach. Carlisle and Conner's movements froze for a split second as they looked at each other, each man likely contemplating the many potential problems that could result from Bella delivering a premature half-human baby in her currently destabilized condition. Edward was not impermeable to the doctors' thoughts and, as they continued checking over Bella, he looked at our father and spoke at a volume too low for human ears. "Finish your thought, Carlisle." I saw the two men lock eyes and then our father looked down at Bella as Edward narrowed his gaze and sternly demanded, "Carlisle? Don't block me out. I have a right to know."

One did not have to be a doctor to realize that this birth would be extremely risky for both mother and child, but as I waited for Carlisle to respond with his insightful assessment of the situation, I forced myself to be optimistic. The thought of losing either of them, especially now, when our family so desperately needed something to feel joyful about, was just too much to endure. I frantically searched for any sign of what was to come, but my gift was still on the fritz and Bella's future was a mystery._ They are both going to be absolutely fine_ I reassured myself, and Edward, as I glared heavenward and dared fate to go against my thoughts and take another part of our family. I may not be able to see into our futures at the moment, but I refused to allow destiny to claim my sister or her child.

Edward's jaw clenched and unclenched, his nostrils flaring in determination as he stared at our father, waiting for him to voice, in one way or another, his thoughts on Bella's current condition. I heard Carlisle sigh, but it was Conner's voice that met my ears. "I'm going to sneak into the NICU and try to confiscate some of their equipment just in case we'll need it and then I'm heading up to the OR. It should be prepped and ready in about fifteen minutes." He was out the door in a blur, all eyes following his exit and then returning to the exhausted woman lying before us. Her screams had once again stopped, and the room was eerily quiet.

"Edward, there is no way of knowing how this will turn out," Carlisle began, breaking the silence for everyone except Bella. He moved around the bed as he spoke, releasing the wheel brakes so that my sister could be transported for surgery. "Even under the best circumstances, with Bella and the baby in optimal health and every available resource at our disposal, delivery at such an early stage would be precarious. We are going to have to operate because as far as we can figure, the casing around the child is not conducive to a natural birth, and even if it were, Bella is nowhere near stable enough to attempt such a physically grueling feat. The surgery is risky, but it is the only chance we have of saving either of them." The last brake was released and Carlisle turned to Edward, placing his hand on my brother's shoulder, squeezing it gently and looking him straight in the eye. "Edward, we'll do everything we can, but you need to prepare yourself for every outcome."

Edward's eyes were once again widened in shock as he stared at nothing and raked his fingers through his unruly bronze hair, his mind obviously running wild with thoughts that I didn't care to imagine. Carlisle's words had not been encouraging, and the only way he would dash Edward's hopes this early on was if he knew that there was a strong likelihood for the worst to happen. No matter the difficulty or pain it caused, one thing Carlisle always believed in was honesty. I prayed that his predictions were wrong even though I knew they often were not. I prayed for a miracle. With everything that had happened, we all certainly deserved one.

After a long moment of pensive silence, Edward's eyelids closed and he took a few deep, calming breaths before he moved to help Carlisle wheel the bed to the operating room, his expression steeled and determined. He looked down at Bella's frightened face as I followed them down the corridor, his features softening for just a moment as he spoke to her, comforted her. "Bella, love, we're taking you to the operating room now. Carlisle's going to do a caesarian to get the baby out and you're both going to be just fine, okay?" He swallowed hard over the lump in his throat and gripped the metal sides of the bed until his knuckles turned white, attempting to maintain his calm appearance before he whispered, "You're going to have to be strong now. I'll be with you every step of the way and when this is all over, you and me and the baby will start our lives together. I love you both so much."

We rounded the corner and entered the all-too familiar operating room. It was almost like a second home for Bella these past few days, considering the extensive hours she had been in surgery following Victoria's attack. I fervently hoped that _this_ surgery didn't result in Bella slipping into a coma as the last one had because Edward was teetering on the brink of insanity and Bella going under again might be just enough to push him over the edge. I didn't think I could tolerate living with a nutcase for the rest of eternity. Normal Edward was already difficult enough to handle.

Carlisle began helping Conner hook up all of the machinery as Edward busied himself securing the bed into position and then soothing Bella the best he could as she battled round after round of painful contractions. She had broken out in a sweat and her blond hair was plastered to her forehead as she grimaced and clenched her teeth and tried to limit her cries. Each time she stopped screaming, she looked drained, weakened and I knew she couldn't go on like this for much longer.

When the room and its overabundance of beeping machines and instruments and drapes were ready, I watched as the three men moved Bella onto her side as gently as possible and then Conner stuck a needle into the lower part of her back and injected her with anesthesia. We all waited impatiently for Bella to confirm that the numbness had kicked in—I never knew twenty minutes could last so long—and then Carlisle made the horizontal incision across Bella's abdomen. The scent of her blood filled the air and the scorching feeling in the back of my throat reminded me of just how long it had been since I had last hunted. I tried to remain strong, tried to overcome the instinctive pull of her blood by reminding myself of who she was and what she meant to me, but after a few minutes, I realized that I was not helping myself or my sister by being there. I decided to join Jasper and Esme in the medical student observation room to watch and pray that everything would turn out okay.

As I stepped out into the hallway, I felt a vibration in my pocket and I quickly flipped open my phone when I saw Rosalie's name on the caller ID. "Rose? Is everything okay? Where are you?" I spouted off, eager to dispel my instantaneous fears about the condition of my grieving sister. I couldn't handle any more emergencies at the moment, so I prayed that she was on her way back to the hospital and not off finding trouble in all the wrong places.

"I'm fine, Alice. Or, as fine as I'm ever going to be, anyway. But I'm not calling to talk about me. I met up with Kate while I was out—saying goodbye." I heard her breath hitch and felt a surge of both sympathy and anxiety. Rose wasn't in trouble per se, but if she was with Kate, I knew her situation had the potential for going on a rapid downward spiral. The two had likely spoken of Emmett's death, and of Tanya, and Rose had run out in such a rush that we hadn't been able to tell her how Emmett had died—or who, surprisingly, had been responsible. I didn't need my gift to know why she was calling and this was not exactly a conversation I wished to have over the phone, particularly not when I knew that Rosalie would lose her temper and Kate would have a very difficult time accepting that her sister was a murderer.

I didn't have time for this; I needed to focus on Bella's surgery and the baby and supporting Edward if things didn't go well. I sighed as Rosalie continued, "Kate hasn't been able to find Tanya and I was wondering if you knew what happened to her. I know you didn't mention anything about seeing her when I was there, but I didn't exactly give any of you the chance to explain and I know Kate is worried about her so I thought that maybe you could—"

"Tell Kate not to worry. Tanya is _fine_," I said bitterly, immediately regretting the words and the tone I had used. If I had not sounded cold and angry when I spoke, Rosalie might have just thanked me and been satisfied with a promise to continue this conversation later.

Instead, she said, "Why did you say it like that, Alice? What happened?"

"Nothing," I replied calmly. But Rosalie was not stupid. She knew the age old rule that a quick response of 'nothing', especially when uttered by a woman, is typically just another way of saying 'something major but I don't want to talk about it'. And, unfortunately, she had her fair share of pent up Cullen stubbornness to cash in on.

"No, not 'nothing', Alice. I know something is going on. What are you not telling me? Did you see Tanya? Was she with Emmett?" When I didn't respond right away, she barked, "Damn it, Alice! Tell me!"

I decided to try to distract her away from the topic of Tanya the murdering traitor, so I snapped, "Rose, I can't talk about this right now. Bella went into early labor and they are just starting surgery to try to save her and the baby. The last person in the world I want to think or talk about right now is _Tanya_."

"Oh," was all she responded, her tenacious voice momentarily stunned into silence by the knowledge that Bella and the baby were in danger. I expected her to be angry that I was more concerned with Bella at the moment than I was with her, but when she recovered, she surprised me by saying, "Are they going to be alright?"

"We don't know yet," I answered honestly, wondering when Rosalie had started to care about our human sister and why I had not picked up on it.

After another long pause, Rose poured on the persuasion and said, "Look, Alice, I know you want to focus on Bella right now and that's fine. You should. But I have been going out of my mind wondering what happened to Emmett ever since I left the hospital and I need to know whatever it is you are hiding from me because I _know_ it has something to do with him. If you keep refusing to tell me, I'm just going continuously think about it and I'll probably wind up imagining something much worse than what it really is."

I huffed into the phone and pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. If I hadn't known any better, I would have sworn that all of this stress was giving me a headache. "Please, Alice," she begged. I was still hesitant to oblige her request, and my continued indecision apparently reinstated her stubborn streak. "Fine. I'm just going to assume from your silence that Tanya is in danger from that bitch Victoria and Kate and I will go after her. God knows, there's nothing I wouldn't give to get my hands—"

"No, Rose! You can't do that!" I shouted desperately, trying in vain to come up with a plausible excuse for the two women to stay out of danger when the only thing tumbling around in my mind at the moment was the truth.

"Why not? I mean, maybe if Kate and I could find Tanya and the three of us hunted down Victoria we could make her pay for what she did. She deserves to die for what she did and you can't seriously think she could survive against all three of us."

I panicked and started talking. "Rose, listen to me. I know you are angry and you want revenge. And I promise you, someday we _will_ make them pay for what they did to Emmett. But this is not the right time. You need—"

"What do you mean 'what _they_ did to Emmett'?" Rosalie hissed.

I instantly realized my error in word choice and I stopped my pacing feet to lean my head against the wall outside of the observation room door. I took a deep breath and said, "Victoria wasn't the only one responsible for Emmett's death. I saw the fight in one of my visions but it was too late to stop it. Rose, Tanya helped Victoria kill him." I waited for her to deny what I had said just as I had, at first, denied the possibility of what I had seen. I waited for her to yell or sob or do _something_ but for minutes all I heard on the other end of the line was rapid breathing. "Rose?" I said quietly, but still there was near silence from my sister. I was just about to repeat her name when I heard her breathing erupt into a growl just before the line went dead.

"Damn it all to hell!" I shouted as I threw my phone against the opposite wall of the hallway and watched it shatter into tiny pieces. I was not a family crisis hotline. I was barely holding it together dealing with one life-threatening problem at a time, but the phones kept on ringing and now I had three lives to worry about. Maybe four, depending on whether or not Rose's anger at Tanya turned her against Kate.

"What's wrong, Alice?" I heard Jasper say as he poked his head out of the nearby room.

"We have to go," I stated sullenly, walking into Jasper's opened arms. "There's nothing we can do here and I have a feeling that Rosalie is going to need our help."

_**Kate's POV**_

I waited impatiently for Rosalie to get off of the phone and tell me if Alice had seen or heard from Tanya. My feet were wearing a trench into the frozen ground as I listened to Rose's half of the conversation, terrified for my sister now that I had found out Emmett had died at the hands of Victoria. Tanya was an inexperienced fighter, perhaps the most inexpert member of our entire coven when it came to the art of combat, despite the fact that she was also the eldest. Emmett had possessed both experience and extraordinary strength and yet _he_ had fallen. I shuddered to think of how easily Victoria could have overtaken Tanya and chastised myself yet again for going along with her absurd suggestion that we split up.

Sasha had been insistent that we all live peacefully in Alaska, and, with the exception of the events surrounding our mother's death, which were still somewhat of a mystery to me, we had managed to survive centuries without a single brawl. Irina and I had both had our share of disputes prior to joining Sasha in Denali, so our fighting abilities, though a bit rusty, were more than adequate to keep us alive. But Tanya had been sheltered, babied by both her human and vampire mothers to a point where the only survival knowledge she brought to a fight would be instinctual. And in a fight against Victoria, that wouldn't have been enough.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard Rosalie growl and I looked up just in time to see her fist squeeze her phone until it smashed and hundreds of shiny silvery pieces went sailing through the air. I approached her quickly, but with increasing cautiousness when I realized that she was crouched and looking at me with fury emanating from her darkened eyes. "What is it, Rose?" I asked, my arms outstretched defensively toward her and my legs ready to spring as if she were my enemy even though my heart and mind told me that she was my family.

"Your sister," she hissed, "helped _**murder**_ my husband!" She growled again and then spat out, "I'm—going—to—**KILL**—her!" before she ran past me and into the thick woods. _Oh God no,_ I thought to myself as I chased after Rosalie, _she couldn't have_. After a few minutes of running at my absolute maximum pace, I managed to catch up to my seething relative. I grabbed her arm and twisted her around to face me, just barely dodging the path of her fist as she automatically swung in the direction of the force that had stopped her.

"Rosalie, please, just calm down for a minute," I pleaded, as I quickly, and as gently as possible, gripped both of her arms and pushed her against a nearby tree trunk. The last thing I wanted was for Rosalie to go off and kill Tanya in a fit of rage before my sister was given the chance to explain this obvious misunderstanding. No matter how much I loved Carlisle and his family, I would not tolerate an unwarranted attack on any of my sisters.

She narrowed her heated gaze and shook her arms from my loosened grasp. "I will **NOT** calm down. Get out of my way, Kate, or I will _make_ you get out of my way," she whispered through clenched teeth, her nose inches from mine. I held my position, unwilling to back down from her despite her menacing threat which I had no doubt she would attempt to carry out.

"Rosalie, I know that you are reeling from Emmett's death right now and I can sympathize with that. But Tanya had nothing to do with it. She was looking for Victoria to get justice for Bella just like the rest of us were. She—"

"Alice _saw_ her do it," Rosalie yelled, cutting me off. "She saw Tanya _helping_ Victoria attack Emmett, and now he's gone and she is going to pay for what she did. I trust _my_ sister, Kate. I do _not_ trust _yours_." I wanted to argue with her, to defend my sibling, but hearing that Rosalie's accusations stemmed from one of Alice's visions produced a niggling doubt in the back of my mind that I could not quell. In all the years I had known Alice, I had learned to have faith her visions. What she saw may have been subjective, based on decisions that could easily be changed, but in the end, her premonitions would update themselves accordingly and she had never, to my knowledge, been wrong.

I wanted to believe that Tanya was incapable of harming Emmett, of harming any our loved ones, but the seed of uncertainty was quickly blossoming as I remembered how angry she had been when we departed from Conner's house, at my insistence, to oblige Carlisle's request that we track down Victoria. Tanya had loved Edward for decades and he had, once again, rejected her. But this time, he had cast off her advances because he loved another, providing a sufficient point of origin for a fire of jealousy and resentment to build within Tanya's heart. And to make matters worse, the woman he was intimately in love with was a _human_. I had nothing against Bella, in fact, because of her situation being so painfully similar to Rebecca's, I couldn't help but feel connected to the human girl, feel sympathy and worry over her condition.

But Tanya, she _loathed_ Bella and, if I wasn't mistaken, had seemed almost smug when Carlisle informed us that she had been attacked, as if the poor human had gotten exactly what she deserved. When Edward had made it clear that Bella was now and would always be his number one priority, and that he was willing to risk the safety of the rest of his family if it meant saving her, the final straw had been broken. _I _knew where his vehement outburst had come from; he was terrified of losing the one person he loved more than anything else in this world. I had been in a similar situation in my human life and I wholly empathized. But Tanya had never been on the verge of such great loss and I could see in her vengeful eyes that, in that one heated moment, Edward had successfully burned any bridges that had ever connected the two of them. But though their connection had been forever severed, her emotions remained: passion, rejection, jealousy, resentment—and _wrath_.

The last thing Tanya had wanted to do was go on a crusade against the vampire that had harmed the human girl she hated, essentially helping Edward, but she had tagged along anyway, silently mulling over her feelings as we pursued Victoria. The fact that she had so promptly followed along should have raised a red flag, a warning sign that Tanya was not acting quite right. But I had been too focused on my own feelings of loyalty and injustice to pick up on the danger that was boiling just beneath the surface of my sister's hardened exterior.

But were her feelings powerful enough to cause her to turn her back on her very own family? Could they have led her to commit such a treacherous act as _killing_ one of Carlisle's sons? It seemed impossible; Tanya, scorned as she may feel, was simply not _that_ villainous. So why had Alice seen her in the vision of Emmett's death? It was a mystery that I needed resolved immediately and there was only one person that could offer a much-needed explanation.

I had made many attempts to ring Tanya after I realized that the trail I had been following led to a disappointing dead-end, but she had never answered her phone. I decided to give it one more try, hoping that, this time, my sister would pick up and be able to eradicate my troublesome fears that she had committed an irreversible, damnable offense. And in the process, she would save herself from suffering at the hands of the enraged and unforgiving dealer of death that was Rosalie at the current moment. As I reached into my back pocket to retrieve my cell phone, I hastily said, "Rose, if Tanya _is_ responsible for Emmett's death, I will not prevent you from going after her. But, please, at least give me the chance to try and find out from her exactly what happened. Maybe Alice's vision was misconstrued." Rosalie exhaled loudly, scowled and crossed her arms, but at least she wasn't trying to run off.

I hit redial and as the ringing sound filled my ears, my mind continually chanted _please pick up_. Just as I was about to give up hope, I heard a click and Tanya said, "Hello? Kate?" I heaved a sigh of relief. This would all be over soon.

"Tanya where are you?" Rosalie stood up straighter when she realized I had my sister on the other end of the line and her hands gripped her arms more tightly, as if she needed to latch onto something to prevent herself from reaching out and snatching the phone from me.

"I'm…safe," she replied hesitantly, vaguely. It was disquieting. I got the distinct impression that she did not want me to know where she was and I was instantly filled with dread.

I swallowed my fear and said, "Tanya, Alice had a vision." I heard her breathing stop and I closed my eyes, as if the action would somehow prevent me from perceiving all of the unambiguous indicators that this conversation would not have a pleasant end. I continued, "She saw Victoria fighting you and Emmett, only the Cullens seem to think that you were in league with the enemy." There was nothing but silence on the opposite end of the line and every second that passed without Tanya adamantly denying what Alice had seen was chipping away tiny fragments of my still heart. "Tanya?" Silence. "For the love of all that is good and holy, Tanya, tell me Alice was wrong." But my sister uttered not a word. I heard her sharp intake of breath and then it sounded as though she were sobbing into the phone. My heart shattered as the reality of what my sister had done came crashing down upon me. Tanya had betrayed Carlisle's family, and in so doing, she had also betrayed our own coven. Her involvement in Emmett's death had sentenced her to her own ruination, with no possibility for her to atone for her actions. I could see in Rosalie's eyes that the only way to settle this score would be ashes for ashes, a life for a life. The vicious cycle would continue because, ironically, Victoria's actions had been based on the same principle. I fleetingly wondered when, and with whom, it would end before I slowly shook my head back and forth and whispered, "Tanya, how could you?"

As soon as my words were out, the phone was ripped from my hand and Rosalie held it up to her ear, her palm scarcely able to hold the small device steadily by her head as her entire body shook with rage. Despite her quaking form, the words she spoke were steady, calm, deliberate. "You better run, Tanya. Because I'm coming for you and when I find you, you're going to wish you had never been born." Rose flung my phone into the forest and resumed her run. And this time, I could not bring myself to stop her. Instead, I placed my head in my hands and wept.

_**Bella's POV**_

"Make it stop," I fruitlessly whispered as I turned my head and gazed at Edward's tension-filled expression, a never-ending flow of salty tears running haphazardlydown my face. I kept trying to remind myself that, in the end, being able to hug and kiss and hold the beautiful miracle that Edward and I had created would make all of this seem worthwhile, but every time another wave of contractions crashed down on me, I found it extremely difficult to overcome the pain of the present to think about the joys of the future.

I knew that watching the tiny droplets trickling out of my clenched eyelids caused a helplessness that was tearing Edward apart, but I had given up on my attempts to stop crying long ago when I realized that it would soon be the only unproblematic form of release I had left. My throat was already hoarse from the screams that accompanied each contraction and I knew it wouldn't be long until my voice was completely muted and _that_ stress-relieving outlet would be gone. And since every other action, even feats as rudimentary as breathing, sent torrents of pain pulsing through my body, I decided that Edward would just have to learn how to handle watching me cry. It was the least he could do, considering the predicament he had gotten me in.

Alright, I guessed that wasn't exactly fair since I had been the instigator behind the "afterschool special" that had occurred between Edward and me on my birthday. But it takes two to—tango—and the searing pain coursing throughout my midsection just about every other minute had tipped the scale of culpability so that I, uncharacteristically, placed all of the blame on Edward. In my throbbing, medicated, cockamamie mind, _he _was the only one at fault for this mess and, unlike any normal coupling where the expectant mother gets to take out all of her pent up frustrations on her adoring companion, I felt like I was all alone in my suffering.

I couldn't convey all of the irrational thoughts running through my brain because they flip-flopped so rapidly between creative renditions of "I hate you, you bastard" to heartfelt declarations of "I love you, don't leave me" that I thought I might be developing a split personality. Well, that and the fact that I sounded like a strangled toad every time I superseded the pain of facial expression and opened my mouth. And maybe it was just that I had spent too many evenings with Renée watching Lifetime original movies, but I felt as though I deserved to observe the age-old practice of squeezing the hand of the daddy-to-be until his voice raised a few octaves. Thanks to my doped-up imagination, I could almost feel the intense satisfaction of labor-induced sadism, but then I would remember that it never would have worked with Edward anyway. Even if both of my hands had not been held together by pins and stitches and thick, white, mummy-like bandages, knowing me, I probably would have just injured myself clutching his stupid, strong, rock-like vampire fingers. Yes, wiping away my tears was certainly the least Edward could do for me.

I felt my body tense up yet again, but the throbbing seemed duller this time and I glanced at the digital clock that hung above the operating room's swinging doors to see how many minutes had passed since Conner had injected my lower back with the anesthesia. He had said that, on average, it takes about fifteen minutes for the numbness to kick in and, thankfully, I only had two more minutes until that length of time had passed. I concentrated on keeping my breaths steady and my mind as coherent as was humanly possible. The contractions were coming faster now, but I felt them less and less each time around and, at long last, when twenty minutes had gone by, I felt fully anesthetized.

When Carlisle asked me if I was ready for the surgery to begin, I grimaced, which was the closest impression of a smile that I could muster at the moment, and whispered, "Yes."

"You're going to feel pressure on your abdomen, but you should not be feeling pain. Let us know immediately if something does not feel right, okay?" Carlisle said before he grabbed the scalpel and moved behind the hanging blue drape and out of my line of vision. I stared straight ahead at the cloth that was hiding my two doctors, waiting rather impatiently to feel the sensation he had spoken of.

I learned I had also subconsciously been chewing on my lower lip when Edward leaned over me, breaking into my visual window and said, "Bella, you're going to bite your lip off if you don't stop." I scowled at him, winced at the pain caused by my scrunched up face, immediately blamed Edward for the fact that my face—especially my lip—hurt and then contemplated childishly telling him where he could shove his scolding remarks until I felt a tugging at my stomach that forced me to clench my jaw and, once again, focus on my breathing.

I watched as hands repeatedly reached out to the instrument table and then disappeared, trying to distract myself from thinking about the blood—my blood—that was covering their gloved fingertips. The rusty scent of the crimson liquid wafted into my nostrils and I started to feel woozy. I averted my gaze to the view above me, deciding that it was the perfect time to focus on doing something mindless and remedial, like counting the light fixtures or admiring the texture of the ceiling tiles or any other task that didn't involve me vomiting up the derisory contents of my stomach.

I discovered that there were nine lights and forty-two ceiling tiles in the operating room and that I always got stuck on the letter P when I tried to mentally recite the alphabet backwards. I discovered that, at the moment, the dazzling effects of Edward's golden eyes were out of order and that my lullaby didn't sound quite as sweet when the room was spinning and my body was being invaded by sharp objects and cold fingers. And I discovered that twenty minutes had never, _ever_ seemed longer than they had just now.

Nor had they ever been as worthwhile, because at that moment, Conner was carrying a bowling-ball-sized oblong sac to a second operating table and I knew that within that ivory pod would be the perfect little being that I fell in love with the very first time it moved within me. Edward gave me a quick peck on the cheek and then hastily joined Conner at the operating table as I watched and waited for our baby to emerge. Both men seemed to gently feel around the sac with their fingertips for a few seconds before Edward leaned down over the encasement, opened his mouth and sank his teeth into one end.

At first, my brain was abuzz with warning lights and siren sounds, but then I saw Edward straighten up and delicately begin splitting the sac open. After there was a significant aperture, Conner's hands disappeared into the shell and seconds later, he was pulling a tiny little person from within its confines. I watched with joyful tears in my eyes as he placed the baby on the table and my heart swelled immeasurably when I heard Edward's awestruck voice pronounce, "It's a girl."

I no longer cared about the pain or the pulling or the pressure; in an instant, I was on cloud nine, floating in a sea of bliss. I started picturing her—my _daughter —_imagining all the things I wanted to do with her, teach her, learn from her. If my body would have permitted, I would have been bouncing in place with my arms outstretched, eagerly waiting to greet her, to hold her for the first time.

I watched and waited and as the seconds passed, and I recognized that something wasn't quite right. Edward and Conner were blocking her from my view. Edward hadn't so much as looked at me or talked to me since he had approached the second operating table. Shouldn't he have been ecstatic, smiling, parading around with his newborn daughter that he had claimed to love so much? Why hadn't he brought her to me? And why did this room suddenly seem deathly quiet? Straight away, I was panicking, terrified and the silence of the room was replaced by the rapidly increased beeping of my heart rate monitor.

Because I now knew exactly what was missing, what was off about this stitch in time: my beautiful daughter had just entered this world and as yet had not made a single sound. I waited, straining my ears to pick up on the quietest of noises, but there was still nothing. Not a whimper, not a cry, not even a hiccup. I opened my mouth to beg Edward for reassurance, to plead with him and his father and Conner and God and the devil and any other being that cared to listen to give me some indication that my child was alright. But my opened mouth produced no sound, my ability to speak hampered by the paralyzing fear. The persistent mechanical beeping was quickly drowned out by the deafening magnitude of silence.

An hour ago I had wished for an escape, for peace and tranquility and quiet. Now, I would have given everything for a disruption of this silence, but I was powerless to do anything more that watch and wait. And listen.


	19. LIGHTNING CRASHES

**In the last chapter, Rosalie learned that Tanya was involved with Emmett's death and she is on a vengeful journey to make her, and Victoria, pay for what they did. Kate learned of her sister's betrayal. And the baby was born. It's a girl, it's a girl! But she's not making a peep, no crying, no breaths. Bella is terrified. Let's continue on…**

**19 ~ Lightning Crashes**

"**Lightning crashes, a new mother cries  
Her placenta falls to the floor  
The angel opens her eyes  
The confusion sets in  
Before the doctor can even close the door  
Lightning crashes, an old mother dies  
Her intentions fall to the floor  
The angel closes her eyes  
The confusion that was hers  
Belongs now, to the baby down the hall  
Oh now feel it comin' back again  
Like a rollin' thunder chasing the wind  
Forces pullin' from the center of the earth again  
I can feel it.  
Lightning crashes, a new mother cries  
This moment she's been waiting for  
The angel opens her eyes  
Pale blue colored iris,  
Presents the circle  
And puts the glory out to hide, hide"**

_**Lightning Crashes **_**by Live**

**Friday, October 7**

_**Edward's POV**_

It was torturous, the feelings of inadequacy and helplessness that assaulted me even after the well of Bella's tears had finally run dry. When she gave the go ahead for the surgery to start, indicating that the anesthesia had caused the last of the pain to subside, I had hoped that she would finally be able to relax her exhausted body. Instead, her facial features seemed tenser, _more_ anxious. And to make matters worse, she was now refusing to look at or speak to me. What I wanted more than anything else in this world right now was to make her smile, but the few times I had managed to get her to cast a fleeting glance in my direction, her flared nostrils, pursed lips and narrowed eyes gave me the distinct impression that she was severely unhappy with me. I had never before been subjected to the infamous "look" of a woman, but I discovered that I was just as susceptible to its drop-to-your-knees-and-grovel powers as any mortal man would be. Unfortunately, though, Bella's mental and verbal silences left me with no indication of what it was that I needed to apologize for, so I began humming her lullaby as a truce and attempted to distract myself from the feelings of guilt by focusing my attention on the status of the operation.

I listened with growing impatience to the thoughts of both Conner and my father as they worked diligently to remove my child from Bella's swollen abdomen. Carlisle, at first, was limiting his ponderings to elements of the procedure. He skillfully withheld his opinions and offered no further insight about the expected outcome for Bella or the baby than what could be determined through my rusty assessment of his eyes' front-stage view of the surgery. After Victoria's attack, I had done my best to coax the dormant knowledge of medicine from the far recesses of my mind, but considering that obstetrics had never been my forte during my two terms in medical school all those decades ago, I was hardly qualified to sufficiently evaluate the progress of the surgery. I wasn't given much time to dwell on Carlisle's lack of professional hypotheticals, though, because Conner's personal imaginings were more than compensatory at keeping my mind engaged. And angered.

After a few minutes, I deduced that he had temporarily forgotten about my gift; there was, simply, no other logical explanation for the hodgepodge of thoughts about _my _Bella and _my _child running rampant through his mind at present. In addition to thoughts about the surgery, his imagination was conjuring up images of a glowing Bella holding a tiny baby. The child, a boy wrapped in a fuzzy, powder blue blanket, was fluttering his heavy-lidded chocolate-brown eyes, on the verge of sleep, while his mother, my sweet Bella, was gently rocking him back and forth to the soft tempo of the soothing melody she was humming. When his tired eyes finally drooped to a close, Bella rose from the chair and gingerly placed him in his crib. The image would have been perfection to me had it not been marred by the raven-haired figure hovering behind her, his adoring smile signifying the affection he felt for both mother and child. An affection that Bella seemed to reciprocate.

Conner had inserted himself, uninvited, into my fantasies of family life with the woman that I loved and if it hadn't been for the fact that he was currently assisting in an operation to save the two most important people in my world, I might have lost my temper and not-so-delicately informed him of just how little I cared for the path his mind was taking. As if he were purposefully testing the limitations of my self-control, the obtrusive, imagined Conner in my head spun Bella around to face him and then leaned down and kissed her blissful face. The whimsical kiss became increasingly passionate, with Conner's arms tightening around Bella's waist as they pulled her flush against his body. My hands balled into tight, white-knuckled fists as I edged ever-closer to my breaking point. When her fingers wound themselves into his dark hair and imaginary Bella seemed to take on the lead role in the lip lock, I barely managed to smother a guttural growl of fury. I stared at the blue sheet that hid Conner from my view with an intensity that, in a perfect world, would have caused him to spontaneously combust and effectively freed my mind of his unwelcome thoughts.

Mere seconds away from leaping off the cliff of reason and diving into a state where I kill first and think about consequences later, Conner's thoughts shifted from the progressively explicit nursery make out scene with Bella. It gave my mind a much needed reprieve before I was assailed by the unexpected content of his next fantasy. Sunlight was shining through the stained-glass windows of the small chapel, spreading a kaleidoscope of colors across Conner's beaming face as he stood at the altar with an elderly priest. Every occupant of the church was watching in awe as a beautiful figure dressed in flowing white lace walked slowly toward him. To say I was livid would be an extreme understatement.

Conner was taking my most cherished daydreams and tainting them with his presence. Bella was _mine_—my love, my life, my _wife—_or, rather, she would be soon enough. Since the moment I had discovered that Bella was the key to my eternal happiness, I had known that, one day, I wanted to ask her to share her life with me. Even when I had left, my mother's engagement ring had remained in the small antique chest that held my most prized possessions from my human family. I saw no point in taking them with me when the only woman I would ever want to share them with was in Forks. My unspoken promise to be everlastingly true to Bella, and the sparkling trinkets that symbolized that promise, had remained in Washington, even when I, physically, had not.

Now that we were together once again, my desires for a future where Bella and I vowed to stay with each other forever were renewed tenfold. As long as I existed, there was no way she would ever walk down the aisle to meet anyone but _me_. Especially not—my own thoughts were interrupted as, in Conner's mind, the white veil was lifted to reveal someone other than Bella. The smiling young woman he kissed was strikingly similar in appearance to my love, but her nose was slightly more rounded, her cheekbones just a hair too prominent. I realized then that I had gotten it all wrong. Conner was not fantasizing now; he was remembering.

His thoughts became a rush of images of himself and this mystery woman, a rapid movie of a young couple's happy life. I saw them laughing, hugging, kissing, tickling, and then crying tears of joy as their doctor's words echoed from his thoughts to mine. _It's a boy_. I could almost feel his joy as he looked into the face that wasn't quite Bella's, but, in an instant, her smiling expression turned fearful and the pale green walls of the doctor's office changed to the darkened bricks of an alley. There was another figure looming in the background of this memory, a hungry predator, a despicable reminder of the inhumanity of the majority of our species. The vampire felt no remorse as he sunk his teeth into the creamy skin of the woman's neck; his stone ears were deaf to his victims' cries of pain and desperation. I watched as the woman's eyes—Bella's eyes—purged every other thought from my mind before they slowly closed for the last time.

As if the door to his mind had been abruptly slammed shut, all of Conner's thoughts left my head. I gasped softly due to the suddenness of the loss, though I was thankful for the absence of the heart wrenching images which had brought a topic I had tried to banish to the depths of my mind bubbling to the surface. I knew I couldn't sweep the subject of Bella's mortality under the rug forever, but now was certainly not the time for an inward battle of heart versus soul.

Unfortunately, though, like so many others, this war did not feel the effects of time or place, and so it continued on despite the protests of my mind. My heart, still and selfish, favored replacing Bella's mortal life with an immortal one, allowing me an eternity with my precious love. But my soul, darkened as it may be, was trying to redeem itself by warring with my heart, demanding that Bella not be condemned to hell simply because I couldn't imagine a life without her. Every time I remembered the way it had felt when I thought she was gone forever, a small piece of the resolve my soul had fabricated was chipped away. I was falling into myself now, dueling, struggling to do the right thing when his thoughts intruded on the solitude of my anguished mind.

_Everything seems to be going smoothly_. The unspoken words were meant to be a reassurance, I'm certain, but they did little in the way of comforting my tormented thoughts. I found it nearly impossible to regard the task of performing an emergency surgery to remove a not-entirely-human premature baby as _smooth _but the word was Carlisle's descriptive, not mine. My father's growing confidence with the situation _was_ encouraging, but the parts of my mind that weren't occupied with Carlisle's thoughts were still busy going off on wild tangents.

As if the to-change-or-not-to-change argument weren't more than enough for me to be dealing with at the moment, my thoughts also began swirling around the topic of my child. I was still getting used to the idea of being a father, of being responsible for a fragile little person that was the product of the intense love that Bella and I shared. I wondered what it would be, and quickly decided that I didn't care. Boy or girl, _daughter _or _son_, they would both result in the same future: I would be driven to the brink of insanity by worry for the rest of my existence. I realized that it wouldn't be much different than the way I had always felt about Bella, though. Love and worry seemed to be inseparable in my life, and I realized that it didn't really matter. Having love, having Bella and our child and my parents and siblings was the ultimate, priceless gift.

I heard a slight shuffling behind the blue sheet and was instantly pulled from my reverie. I saw in their minds that the encasement surrounding the baby was being lifted from Bella's womb and my excitement overflowed from the core of my body into my limbs, causing them to tremble. Conner was moving the sac to a second operating table while Carlisle began stitching up Bella's stomach. I smiled at Bella and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before joining Conner to bring my baby into the world.

As I rushed to stand beside him, I briefly considered whether or not this was how Alice often felt: tingling, bubbling, bouncing, full of excitement and wonder. I felt as though, at any moment I was going to jump out of my own skin in eager happiness. It was both frightening and amazing.

Conner's fingers were gently probing the pale white coating, trying to quickly determine the best way to open it to remove the baby. "I think we're going to have to bite it open," he said in an almost whisper. "It's hard, like our skin, and a scalpel doesn't even begin to scratch the surface."

"I'll do it," I said rapidly and then, without hesitation, I leaned down and carefully sliced an opening in the sac with my razor-sharp teeth. I registered the sound of Bella's heart rate monitor beeping faster and I knew without turning around that she was watching us, probably fearful of my deadly, venomous teeth being in such close proximity to our child. I tried to convey a message of caution in my every movement so that she would relax, and as I gently pulled the small opening apart further and further, I was rewarded for my efforts by the stabilizing of Bella's heartbeat.

As soon as the gap was large enough for him to reach into, Conner's hands slid inside the sac. Within seconds, they were reemerging, a small baby cradled in them. "It's a girl," I said, in awe at the sight of my daughter. She was no longer than my forearm, so delicate and red and wrinkly and absolutely perfect with her ten teensy little toes and her heart shaped face with its button nose and her surprisingly thick head of coppery hair. I couldn't help but extend my index finger to touch her tiny fingers, and I was stricken by the heat of her skin. At least her body temperature was something she had inherited from her mother.

_Why isn't she breathing_? His worried thoughts brought my soaring happiness crashing down upon me. I looked at her again, without the shield of a new father's adoration to cloud my assessment and I realized that her eyes weren't opened like they should be, and her chest wasn't rising and falling like it should be and, strain as I might, the only heartbeat my ears could pick out was Bella's. Panic filled me to bursting as I shifted my body to block the view of our daughter from my sweet Bella. She didn't need to worry yet. I had enough of that emotion coursing through my veins for the both of us.

Conner felt her tiny arm for a pulse, just to confirm what both of our sets of ears had already told us, and then he moved swiftly to begin CPR. As the seconds passed like years, I tried to pull myself together, tried to escape the crippling fear, tried to force myself into optimism. Because there was no way I could live a full and happy life now without the tiny little person that was lying before me.

_**Jasper's POV**_

As my legs carried me toward a place that I wasn't absolutely positive I could handle seeing again, the thought crossed my mind that I was starting to split in two. There was a part of my self that was now completely consumed by emotions and then there was the part of me that had broken off in order to preserve my sanity. In all my years, I had never been bombarded with feelings as strong as those that I had been experiencing for the past week, and many of those overwhelming emotions originated from _me_.

At the moment, I was absolutely furious with Rosalie. Obviously, I was also quite sympathetic for her loss; I had felt her grief and despair before she ran away from us, and I knew how inconsolable _I_ would be if I had lost Alice in that way. But the idea that she was running off after Tanya and Victoria, putting her life at risk when our family was overwhelmed as it was grieving for Emmett, was just too much to comprehend. And her pig-headedness, in turn, was tormenting my poor Alice and placing _her _in danger, and _that_ was unacceptable. Rosalie had always been the odd one out when it came to the concept of working as a _family_ but when we caught up with her, I was, somehow, going to get it through her thick skull that if we don't start working together, one by one, we're going to die alone.

We had been running nonstop through the forest for about twenty minutes and, all of a sudden, Alice's body came to a standstill and she stared off into nothingness. I knew immediately that she was having a vision because the anxiety previously radiating from her had instantly vanished. I stood beside her, waiting for the glazed expression to leave her face and when it did, the unexpected growl that erupted from her slight frame caused me to jump back a few feet. "What is it, Alice? What did you see?" I asked, cautiously, inching my way toward her again.

She scowled and said, "It was Victoria and Tanya. I saw where they're headed; I know what they plan to do. Quickly, we have to get back to the hospital and warn everyone. Right now, it isn't Rosalie who is in danger." She did an about-face and started sprinting back the way we had come and I quickly followed suit.

_**Conner's POV**_

I had never before contemplated the miracle that bringing a child into this world truly was until I lifted her warm body from the protective skin and laid it on the table. I had based my expectations of her on the presumption that she would take after her father in many aspects. We knew so little about her before she was born that it seemed logical to assume that, since she could only be nourished by blood, she would share many other attributes with the vampire side of her family. I found myself wondering if she would emerge with pale, granite skin and a still heart, but it seemed that, aside from her diet and her head of unruly bronze hair, the tiny girl took after her mother in every way. This meant that she should have a pulse, which she didn't, and, since I had just suctioned out her nose and mouth, she should be breathing, but she wasn't. I firmly flicked the soles of her feet in an attempt to get her to respond, but she simply lay there, unmoving.

This could not be happening. Not now, not after Lay—Bella had already been sent spiraling into hell more times than any one person should ever have to in such a short lifetime. _Why isn't she breathing? _I thought to myself, panicked. I immediately grabbed the neonatal mask from the assortment of supplies I had swiped from the NICU and placed it over her mouth. I refused to give up. Come hell or high water, I was going to save this baby.

I repeatedly squeezed the bag attached to the mask and watched as her tiny chest rose and fell. When I stopped squeezing, her body was still. "Edward, take the mask," I ordered quickly, beginning chest compressions with the tips of my index and middle fingers, mindful of the pressure I used to prevent her fragile body from experiencing any further trauma. "Three compressions, one ventilation. Go." I halted my movements so that Edward could squeeze a burst of air into her lungs and then my hands resumed their rapid, gentle pushes. "Come on, angel," I whispered as my fingers kept with their press-press-press-pause rhythm and my ears listened for sounds of a second heartbeat, a second set of breaths in the room. But the only sounds I heard were coming from Bella.

_Her_ escalating heartbeat had me worried. Bella needed to calm down. She was too weak, too stressed, too broken and a period of prolonged heart rate elevation would be more than enough to send her body over the edge. She had already been rescued from near death so many times; I shuddered at the possibility that, if she left us again, it was very likely that no amount of medical work and no miracles would bring her back this time. I couldn't bear the thought. I couldn't lose—

Edward's low growl and Bella's strained voice, a few octaves higher than normal, broke through my uneasy thoughts. "Edward? Why aren't you letting me see her?" When he didn't immediately answer, she became demanding, hysterical, each word she spoke echoing louder and louder throughout the room. "Edward! I want to see my daughter! I want to see Emmalie!" _Emmalie_. It was the first time I had heard anyone mention a name for the child, and the way Edward's head snapped to Bella's face when she said it left me with the distinct impression that it was the first time he was hearing the name as well.

Edward quickly masked his expression, hiding his fear and surprise from her as he softly said, "Bella, love, we just need to make sure that she is alright. As soon as we're done, I'll bring her to you. Please, try to relax." His words seemed to soothe her, and as we continued with our attempts to resuscitate Emmalie, Bella's heartbeat slowly declined.

Sixty seconds passed with no change in the baby's condition, so I decided to try something else. "Switch with me," I quickly said to Edward, and, without missing a beat, we had changed positions. I grabbed an endotracheal tube, intubated and attached a bag to the valve while Edward was performing the compressions. I ventilated and, now that my hands had been freed from the necessity of holding the mask securely to the baby's face at all times, I was able to hook up an IV and inject her with a small amount of epinephrine. We continued CPR as I waited for the drug to kick in, praying with all my might that this would work.

I once again listened intently for sounds of a heartbeat—and was rewarded. It was quiet, nearly undetectable, but it was there. A few moments passed, and the faint murmur became increasingly more audible. After every passing second, her little heart was pumping faster and faster, louder and louder. Then I noticed the slight movement of her chest when I stopped squeezing the ventilation bag. My breathing stopped, as if my cessation of the act would somehow strengthen Emmalie's ability to achieve it. My eyes were glued to her upper body, waiting to see the movement again. Ever-so-slowly, her chest started rising and falling without any assistance.

I glanced at Edward and he appeared to be mesmerized by the movement of her body, a wide grin steadily appearing on his face for the first time today. He gently lifted her onto the pale pink blanket that was lying on the table and began carefully wrapping the soft material around her tiny body. Then he leaned down, lovingly kissed her forehead and, barely audibly, whispered, "I love you, Emmalie. Soon I'm going to take you to meet your momma. She loves you too." I felt a pang of jealousy as I watched his interaction with his daughter. I was trying not to let the envy consume me, but it was difficult to watch Edward, a man who had once tossed his love aside as if it had meant nothing, enjoying a life experience that I had been imagining since the day it had been so brutally ripped away from me. While Edward's heart was growing with love for his child, mine was breaking with grief for the baby that I had lost. Just as I had with the memories of my wife that overwhelmed me earlier today, though, I shoved the pain to the back of my mind, behind lock and key, and refocused my attention on Emmalie.

I knew that Edward was aching to take her to Bella, but I insisted that we wait a few moments to move her from the table so that we could be sure that she was stable. It was during this time that another miracle happened. After about two minutes of Emmalie breathing on her own, I removed the tube from her throat and her eyelids fluttered. Then, slowly, her beautiful, chocolate eyes opened. She looked at me for a moment, and then her gaze moved, and fixated on, Edward. But that brief moment was all it took for my heart to swell and the knowledge to seep into my mind that, for the rest of my life, I would do anything to keep this child safe. She was not my daughter, and I wasn't delusional enough to think that I could come between Edward and Bella now, but, still, I wanted to be a part of this tiny person's life. Because her eyes, exact duplicates of Bella's, and Kathleen's, were offering me yet another chance to make amends for the time that I had failed. They were offering me one more chance at protecting the life of an innocent child. I may not have been able to save my son, but I would protect the sweet angel that lay before me until the day I died.

The hope that Emmalie's awakening had caused to swell within me was quickly quashed, however, when I heard Carlisle's swift movements behind me. Edward, who was now cradling Emmalie in his arms, turned around and his smile instantly died. His eyes widened in alarm and he cried, "No!" just as Bella's eyelids were closing, her head fell to the side and her heart rate monitor flat lined.

_**Edward's POV**_

_Congratulations, son _I heard from Carlisle's thoughts. _I'm almost finished here and, when they're both ready, you can take my granddaughter to meet her mother. _My father's thoughts seemed to be beaming with happiness and pride. My own smile grew wider and I felt a surge of gratitude for the man that had raised me to overcome what nature had intended me to be so that I could be given this treasured gift. I heard the operating room doors swing open and Esme was joining us at the table within seconds, a broad smile lighting up her entire face. _Edward, she's breathtaking. Be prepared—your father is going to spoil her rotten. I can see it in his eyes._

I had thought when I fell in love with Bella that I would never again feel an emotion of such strength and devotion. But I was very wrong. As I watched Emmalie's eyes open for the first time and she looked up at me, I knew that I was a goner. She was not even ten minutes old, and yet she had already joined Bella in her role as the center of my universe. I couldn't take my eyes off of her and she seemed to feel the same way about me. I knew it was absurd, but it was almost as if she _knew _that I was her father, as if she recognized me somehow. Her eyes never left my face as I picked her up and held her close to my chest.

And then I heard Carlisle's frantic thoughts and my happy heart fell to pieces. _Something isn't right. Her heartbeat is slowing down too much._ I turned around just as Bella's emotionless eyes closed and her head fell limply to one side. Then the monotone of the heart rate monitor sounded, and I knew her heart had stopped beating. "No!" I cried as Carlisle rushed to her side and began chest compressions. Somewhere in the haze of my mind, I registered the act of handing Emmalie over to the welcoming arms of my mother, and then I was next to my Bella, mumbling incoherent phrases with the same essential message: she couldn't leave me now. Not now.

Conner was there, wheeling a crash cart to the other side of the bed. I registered the high-pitched buzzing sound of the defibrillator charging up and then Bella's shirt was gone and the paddles were being placed on her chest. The electricity coursed through her and Bella's flaccid body lifted from the table and then dropped back down, her head rolling to the other side, her heartbeat still absent. "Bella!" I shouted as the paddles were charging again. "Bella don't you dare do this to me! You can't leave me!" I thought of my daughter. "You can't leave _us_!" Another jolt now, another time her body came to rest on the table as the line on the monitor continued on its flat course.

_It's not working. We're going to lose her _Conner thought as he increased the voltage and prepared to place the paddles on her chest once again. But he didn't get the chance because, right then, I snapped. My soul had made a valiant effort, but in the moment of truth, the moment of choice, my heart had won the war. I had always been a selfish creature, and this time was no different. I wanted Bella, I _needed _her. Forever, no matter what the cost. So I did the only thing that was left for me to do, made the decision, I now realized, I had always been destined to make. I leaned down, placed my lips on her neck, opened my mouth, and bit her.


	20. THE LAST SUNRISE

**In the last chapter, the baby survived and has a name—Emmalie—and Alice has seen a vision of where Victoria and Tanya are headed next, and the outlook does not look good. Also, just as Emmalie drew her first breaths, Bella drew her last. She flat lined and it appeared as though nothing would save her until Edward swooped in and did the only sensible thing. He bit her…**

**20 ~ The Last Sunrise**

"**You sink your teeth in bite the blood that drains the life inside of me  
and fills your soul with love and hate and all those things you need to breathe  
My body dies but still my soul remains eternally in search of  
Caspian waves and shallow graves explain why me  
I watched the sky bleed grey with see-through shades of violent bloody stains  
and felt the evil prime and wicked start a course straight through my veins  
I'm so alive, my skin so cold and fake I close my eyes  
I know that now's the time to take my chance with death and realize  
So mute and beautiful to me a promise kept on high,  
an angelic look at life through open eyes  
(Sunrise) I will avenge (Sunset) I can't pretend,  
and fills your soul with love and hate and all those things you need to breathe.  
(Sunrise) I will avenge (Sunset) I can't pretend,  
my soul remains eternally in search of  
Caspian waves and shallow graves explain why  
(Sunrise) I will avenge (Sunset) I can't pretend,  
(Sunrise) I won't forget this vane (Sunset) attempt and promise kept,  
just one more night to make up for the loss of love  
and time here comes the sun to rid this world of see through blood and swollen light****"**

_**The Last Sunrise (Dusk Remix) **_**by Aiden**

**Friday, October 7**

_**Conner's POV**_

The endless tone grated across my mind like a thousand protruding nails scratching down the surface of a chalkboard; I wanted to cringe, to cower away from it, to take my fist and pound on the machine until sound could no longer be emitted from its speakers. Yet my fingers continued to grip the handles of the defibrillator paddles like they were my own lifeline, because I knew that the absence of the noise would cause me even greater agony. Without the constant pitch saturating the space surrounding me, I would hear everything that it had succeeded in drowning out. I would hear his anguished cries as he begged her not to leave him, as if the solution were as simple as Bella making the choice to stay. I would hear his mother's footsteps pacing in the hallway as she tried to quiet Emmalie's sudden outburst of tears, as if a child on the verge of losing the mother she had never met could actually be comforted. And, more distressing than either of those, I would hear the silence, the unnecessary reminder that her heart was no longer pounding in her chest and her lungs were failing to draw in the air that her frail body so desperately needed.

I prayed over and over again for just one more miracle. One more opportunity for this girl to live, to love, to find the happiness that had been unfairly eluding her. One more moment of awareness so that Bella could look into the face of her daughter and see what a beautiful baby girl she had created. If I could be permitted nothing more, that one moment is what I wanted most of all. Because if that never happened—if Emmalie and Bella never met—I wasn't sure I would ever be able to forgive myself. Edward, the epitome of an ecstatically proud father, had wanted to show his daughter off immediately after her eyes had opened. _I_ was the one who had insisted he wait to take her to Bella. _I _was the one who had been foolishly ignorant to the constraints of time. I had learned the lesson many times over—that every second was significant—but I continued to make the same erroneous choices. I said another prayer that I would somehow be able to mend the damage my mistakes had made.

When the first shock proved unsuccessful at restarting Bella's heart, though, I quickly gave up on prayers. Had I possessed a soul with which to barter, I would have offered it to the devil himself in exchange for even a few more minutes of her life. But I was a soulless creature, an immortal that, for all my prodigious strengths and abilities, was reduced to sheer humanity in this, her eleventh hour. The reaper had descended, and with every passing second he was pulling her away, pulling her closer and closer to whatever exists beyond this life. He felt no compassion for us, for those who loved her, those who were fighting with everything they had to save her, those who would be left behind for an eternity of pain and tortured remembrance.

I knew that I could not win, but I was equally incapable of surrender. I placed the paddles on her chest, and watched as her body lifted off of the table before, once again, returning to its lifeless state. _It's not working. We're going to lose her_ my mind frantically screamed in an attempt to keep me grounded, keep me from succumbing to the delusions of her salvation. I refused to listen, though, deciding, instead, to hope, just as I had with Emmalie, that today was not the day, that this was _not_ her time. I turned up the voltage and prepared to try again, but before the machine had fully charged, Edward was leaning over Bella's motionless body, sinking his teeth into the pale flesh of her neck.

For a fraction of a second, I stood, frozen in shock, unsure of whether I should latch onto his body and throw him clear across the room or drop down to my knees and praise God for granting us the miracle I had prayed for. We would never be able to reverse the damage that Edward's biting her had done; whether I wanted to admit it or not, Bella's human life had just ended. But, by ending her time as a human, Edward may have found the one and only way for Bella to be saved from absolute death. I typically did not condone condemning others to this eternal life of struggling against nature, but, just this once, I was willing to make an exception. It seemed that Bella would always be the exception to the rule.

The sound of the paddles crashing to the floor—apparently my grip on them had slackened without my knowledge—brought me out of my bewildered state just as Edward's tongue was grazing the crescent marks that his teeth had left on her skin, his venom causing the wounds to heal almost instantly. Even before he had moved on to his next area of inclusion, the crook of her right elbow, Carlisle was at Bella's side, rapidly compressing her chest, forcing her heart to circulate Edward's venom throughout her system. Carlisle's hands never once faltered as Edward's mouth moved from one part of Bella's body to the next, the brutality of his bites overshadowed by the way in which his fingers delicately moved over her still-injured body, the way that his lips gently, but quickly, kissed an apology to each part of her that he had tasted. After he injected his venom into her elbows, and then her wrists, he paused momentarily to assess her lower body. His teeth swiftly sliced through the bandages that were securing the skin that surrounded her fractured femur and the opposite crushed knee. Doing so exposed multiple dark, jagged lines comprised of the hundreds of tiny stitches that were holding all of the metal and bone and muscle and flesh of her legs together.

The opened view of her damaged body brought forth the realization of how much pain she had gone through while receiving the injuries that necessitated all of the tiny black dashes that peppered her pale skin. That awareness made my stomach lurch. At least with that pain, the human pain, we had been able to numb her body with drugs. I was fairly certain that no amount of morphine or any other painkiller concocted on this planet would alleviate the unbearable burning feeling of the change. There was very little I remembered about my own transformation into a vampire, but the one memory that was crystal clear was that it had been the most agonizing physical experience of my existence—both human and vampire. Bella had been through quite a lot more physical torment in her eighteen years as a human than I ever had, but I highly doubted that her assessment of the change would be any different. Hopefully, though, the amount of suffering she had endured as a human had at least boosted her pain tolerance to a higher level.

Unlike me, Edward had no time to dwell on the troublesome view of Bella's body sans bandages or contemplate the impending torture that would befall Bella during the transformation. As soon as the obstructing cloth had been removed, he bit her inner thighs. I might have been appalled by the sight, and the depth of his bites in that very intimate location of her body, if I hadn't known that there was a rather large vein that follows the inside line of each thigh that would be an integral point of insertion for rapid circulation of his venom. Edward finished off his round of biting by tenderly lifting each of Bella's legs so that his teeth could pierce the femoral vein at the back of her knees.

Once he had completed his task of infecting Bella with his venom, he moved to his father's side, watching as Carlisle's hands continued to push down on her chest. After a few seconds, he clenched his jaw and stared angrily at his father. He spoke determinedly as he then knocked Carlisle out of the way and began performing the compressions himself. "No. I don't care what you think. It's not too late. I will stay here and pump her heart _for her_ for the next three days if I have to. It's going to work. She's going to change. She's going to live." I was confused as to the basis of his outburst until I realized that his response was most likely to Carlisle's thoughts rather than to any words that had been uttered.

As I mulled over Edward's declarations, my state of worry returned. Because if Carlisle, who had been responsible for at least four transformations that I was aware of, was concerned that Bella's body was already beyond the ability to change, I was inclined to respect his assessment, whether my heart wanted to believe it or not. As my worry quickly became full-blown panic, I heard Edward almost-inaudibly whisper, "Please, Bella, you _have_ to live. For Emmalie. For _me_. _Please_."

_**Edward's POV**_

The image of the large, red digital numbers entered my mind, though it hadn't been my eyes that were meticulously observing the passage of time. I was trying not to look, not to think, not to smell, not to _taste_. Because every drop of Bella's blood that trickled down my throat as I forced my venom into her body split me apart into the Jekyll and Hyde of my natures.

My humanity, the part of my self that made me capable of loving the woman that lay before me on the precipice of death more than my own life, was repulsed by the taste of her blood. It wanted me to spit it out, to drink a liter of bleach or acid or any other substance that might remove the flavor from my senses. But my monstrous vampiric nature, repressed and unwanted as it was, still made an appearance in my thoughts. It reminded me of how deliciously sweet the elixir that had given Bella life tasted, how it so thoroughly quenched the thirst for human blood that would always be present inside of my body. The monster fought for what it desired most, but it was not now, nor would it ever be, an even contest. Because what _I _wanted most was Bella, now and forever. The flavor of her blood was nothing; _she_ was my everything. In the game of mental war between myself and the monster that dwelled like a life-altering parasite within me, I had won every battle. I refused to be weakened by the taste of her and lose the war now. So I focused my attention on my memories of Bella, of how she had irrevocably changed my life, as I continued to bite her at every major vein I could think of. I was pleased as my tongue grazed the skin behind her knee and the last set of puncture wounds from my teeth disappeared. In the face of such great temptation, I had prevailed, remained in control. And now, Bella would live. And we—Bella, Emmalie and I—could be a family.

_Seven minutes_ he thought. I wasn't at all surprised by the number; Carlisle had been giving me a time update at thirty second intervals ever since the moment I had swooped in and decided to give Bella the future she had once asked me for. Or, at least, that was how I continually justified my actions to the guilty part of my conscience. I internally repeated over and over again that she had wanted to be changed, pleaded for it. But that was last spring. So much had happened since then that a part of my mind couldn't help but question whether or not our time apart had caused Bella to reevaluate her desire to join me in immortality. My family kept getting hit by one vicious blow after another; Bella and I had never been given an opportunity to talk about and resolve the problems of our past, or plan for our future, so I had no way of knowing what she wanted now. I knew exactly what _I _wanted—an eternity of loving her and watching our daughter grow. But what _I _wanted could not justify the irreversible act that I had just committed if Bella did not feel the same.

Surprisingly, though, the majority of the guilt I felt had resulted from an entirely unfamiliar emotion that had assailed me the moment I made the decision to change Bella—relief. It was as if a giant weight had been lifted from my shoulders the moment my venom charted a course through Bella's body, eliminating her fragility, her breakability, her _mortality_. The relief washed over me, filled me, infiltrated every sense I possessed with an amazing, selfish surge of _freedom_. Freedom from the never-ending worry of keeping Bella alive and safe, though I would have spent an entire lifetime willingly protecting her from the hands of fate that were determined to take her away from me. Freedom from the constant anxiety that I would lose control and hurt her, because she would no longer be a soap bubble that I could burst with an unreserved flick of my pinky. And freedom from the sense of unworthiness that I felt since the moment Bella said that she loved me, because now that we would be the same, now that we would both be fighting the same personal demons, I felt a glimmer of hope that I could one day make myself deserving of her affections. Provided that she still wished to give them to me. If she didn't, I—well, then, I wasn't sure what I would do. The thought of that possibility left me weak in the knees, but I managed to make my way to my father's side and I, once again, listened for his thoughts.

_Seven minutes since she flat-lined. Seven minutes without a breath or a heartbeat. Six minutes since the first drop of venom entered her system. Six minutes is—too long. She should have responded by now. Her heart should have restarted by now. Maybe it was already too late. Maybe—_

My eyes narrowed as I listened to his thoughts and the moment he suggested that it may have been too late, I snapped for the second time in ten minutes. My angry words rapidly filled the air and I disrespectfully shoved Carlisle out of my way and continued with the chest compressions myself. My father was wrong. He had to be. Because I was, in no way, ready to live without her again. I was not ready to never share a kiss with her again. I was not ready to never feel her skin against mine again. And I certainly was not ready to explain to my newborn daughter that her mother had left us to live without her. "Please, Bella, you _have_ to live. For Emmalie. For _me_. _Please_," I whispered to her as I furiously pumped her heart.

"Edward," Carlisle said softly as he placed a hand on my moving shoulder. "Son, I—" I knew the direction his words would go, and I refused to listen. I shut him out of my mind, shook his hand from my body and then I cut his voice, his doubts, off with my own determined ones.

"Don't Carlisle. Just. Don't. If you aren't going to help me," I said through clenched teeth, "then you should go. She never gave up on me, not once, not even when I pushed her away. I will NOT give up on _her_." He sighed deeply, but remained standing behind me, just as I knew he would despite the fact that I had asked him to leave. He stayed because he wanted to be there to comfort me when I returned to his perception of reality, the reality where Bella was gone and I was broken. It infuriated me and my hands picked up their pace as I focused all of my attention on listening for the sound of her heart. _Beat, beat, beat _my mind was chanting, demanding.

I wasn't sure exactly how long I stood there performing the actions that Bella's body wouldn't, but after minutes that felt parallel to years of compressing and waiting, there was a blip on the heart rate monitor. My head popped up, my heart and mind praying that I hadn't imagined the fleeting noise. The room was quiet now, much, much too quiet. Each second that passed without a sound sent me further and further into a growing despair that all of the willpower and optimism in the world couldn't smother. But then it came again. I stared at the screen, a smile spreading across my face as another blip, and then another rang out. After about ten repetitions, my hands rested on her chest, feeling the miracle that was her heartbeat.

Steadily, it grew stronger, faster, but I hesitated to remove my palm from the warm skin above her heart, afraid that if I could no longer feel the movement, it would cease to exist. Then Esme entered the room holding my calmed daughter and Emmalie's eyes searched until they fell upon me. I marveled at her perfection, amazed that _I_ was partially responsible for the creation of such a beautiful little girl. It seemed impossible, and yet, here she was, bright-eyed and wonderful, and once again, staring at me with a sense of recognition. Her tiny arms broke free from the pink blanket and as she reached them out in my direction, I felt my heart swell and my mind managed to convince my hands that Bella was not only safe now, but would also be thoroughly putout if I neglected our daughter to fuss over her.

"See, Emmie? I told you that you could see your daddy as soon as he made sure your momma was okay. You were all worried for nothing," Esme said aloud to my daughter as she touched her nose to Emmalie's for an Eskimo kiss, and then, for my benefit, her thoughts continued _like father, like daughter_. _You worry more often than you breathe. _Emmalie continued to reach for me, her expression turning from a smile to a frown when I didn't immediately take her into my arms.

I wanted more than anything to hold her again, but before I could give in to that desire, I needed to protect her from the unpleasant sight of her mother's unhealed body. I was unsure of how perceptive Emmalie would be at her age; I knew very little about children, and what I did know pertained to human children, which Emmalie certainly was _not_. Human newborns were not supposed to be able to retain memories, but they also weren't supposed to be able to hold themselves up, which Emmalie seemed to have mastered in the less than thirty minutes since her emergence. Either way, I wasn't going to take the chance at the image of Bella's stitched-up, damaged body being ingrained in my daughter's mind. As I grasped the blue material and gently tucked it underneath Bella's shoulders, a new, and very commanding, voice fluttered into my thoughts.

_Daddy!_ I spun around and looked fixedly at my daughter. She was still staring at me, pouting, but the only thoughts I heard flowing throughout my head now that I was listening intently were those of Esme, Carlisle and Conner. I briefly wondered if I had imagined the voice, if all the stress of this day had caused my mind to bring me happiness through creative imagination. After all, I hadn't heard any thoughts from Emmalie before, and it seemed logical that she may have inherited the frustrating characteristic of mental muteness from her mother. It would be a dream come true to know what my daughter was thinking, but—

"Edward, I think you'd better come here and hold her before she fidgets her way right out of my arms. She's been worried sick about you and Bella since the moment I carried her out into the hallway," Esme said. I looked at my mother, my head tilting to the side as my brow furrowed in profound confusion, wondering how she could possibly know what Emmalie had been feeling. Esme must have recognized the incredulity on my face because she thought _Just hold her, Edward. You'll see_. A wide, mischievous smile spread across her face, as if she was in on a remarkable secret that I was not, and she gently placed my daughter in my arms.

Emmalie immediately reached up to touch my face with her little fingers. I smiled at her, sure that the twinkle in her eye was mirrored in my own, and then kissed her palm. The moment my lips contacted her skin, an image of Bella flashed into my mind, her head falling to the side as she lost consciousness and my own voice crying out to her. It felt as if I were watching the events of fifteen minutes ago from an alternate perspective. Then, just as quickly as it had entered my thoughts, the image disappeared. I looked down at Bella, fearful that my imagination had gone into overdrive and nothing was as it seemed. But she still lay on the bed, her eyes closed, the images of her quickening heartbeat flashing on the monitor indicating that she was, indeed, changing.

My gaze moved back to Emmalie and she stared at me, almost questioningly. Then she reached up once again and it was a voice that fluttered into my mind this time, a warm, soft, loving voice that I would know anywhere. _You are my little miracle baby. I love you so much. _"Bella," I whispered as I closed my eyes and listened to her words in my mind, amazed at how much I had missed the sound of her voice when it wasn't pained or worried or scared. It wasn't really her; I knew it wasn't because Bella was laying unconscious on the bed right next to me. But her voice was so close, so _real. _

_Momma be okay? _My eyes flew open and I just gaped at my daughter, unable to speak, barely able to even think. I stood there for a few minutes, silently staring at her in confusion and amazement. _Daddy?_ It _was_ her voice, her mind's voice, that I had heard earlier. It was childlike and musical and wonderful and—concerned. But what about Bella's voice? What about the images? What were _those_? Were _they _from Emmalie, too? They seemed to flow into my mind whenever Emmalie touched me. But how?

"What did she show you?" Esme asked, breaking through my shocked state and forcing my mind to function beyond that task of asking the million and one questions that were buzzing through it. "Edward? Say something."

"Bella. She—she showed me Bella." I looked down at Emmalie and then followed her gaze to rest my eyes upon Bella's face.

"I'm not surprised. As far as I could tell from the images she showed me, she was afraid that something bad was happening to Bella. I did my best to convince her that you and your father had things under control, but then she started showing me flashing images—I think they were her memories—of your face and I knew she wouldn't accept reassurances from anyone but you." Esme said, continuing her thoughts with _I guess there was no avoiding the stubbornness in her genes_. That_ came from both of her parents._

"Emmalie?" I said softly, and my daughter looked up at me. "Sweetheart, your mother is going to be fine. She just has to rest for a few days. But she can't wait to meet you." The smile that graced her face as soon as I finished speaking seemed to light up the entire room. Carlisle walked over to us and thought _Edward, I'm sorry for doubting you. I'm so happy that everything worked out._ He reached out to Emmalie and she wrapped her tiny hand around his finger, and then he grinned and said, "Yes, Emmie, I'm your grandfather." _She is gifted. And so intelligent. This is amazing_ he thought, and then he lifted his eyes to meet mine. _Edward, I truly am proud of you. I can't imagine ever having a better son._

While Carlisle's thoughts were serious and heartfelt, Esme's were lighthearted, continuously teasing me about the bad habits that I had passed on to my daughter. Both of my parents seemed happier than I had ever seen them; it was obvious that Emmalie was quickly spreading a much-needed joy and sense of fulfillment to every member of my family. My mother looked at the clock then and said, "I'm going to take the Mercedes to do some shopping. I think Alice would have a fit if her niece were parading around in nothing more than a pink blanket when she came back."

"Where is Alice, anyway? I thought she was going to sit with you and Jasper in the observation room," I said to my mother as Emmalie kept herself busy by playing with my disheveled hair, every so often reaching her palm out in front of my mouth for more kisses. Previously, I hadn't really had the time to concern myself with my sister's whereabouts, but now that Bella and Emmalie were no longer wreaking havoc in the worry centers of my brain, my sister's absence had started to.

"She was," Esme stated, "but she and Jasper went out to find Rosalie and bring her back here." Esme's tone became sorrowful as her thoughts turned to her lost son and grieving daughter. "I hope she's alright."

"I'm sure she will be," I replied, because I believed it to be true. Now that everything in my life was starting to turn out positively, a cloud of optimism seemed to be hovering over my thoughts. It was difficult for me to imagine anything bringing me down from the amazing high that I was currently experiencing.

And then the operating room door opened and Alice walked in the room, followed by a reluctant Jasper. Both of their gazes touched on Emmalie, a flicker of happiness appearing in Alice's eyes and an unreadable expression flashing across my brother's face. I searched his thoughts, instinctively fearful and protective of my daughter, but Jasper's mind indicated that he was not a danger to her. He felt no pull toward Emmalie's beating heart, and the smell of Bella's blood that permeated the room no longer had an effect on him. All he was thinking about as he stared at the child in my arms was a bet that he had made with Emmett at some point before our brother had been killed. I wasn't sure if it was Jasper's sadness or my own that washed over me as I sorrowfully imagined how humorous it would have been to watch Emmett and Jasper argue about baby diapers.

I clung to Emmalie, my anchor of happiness in a sea of mourning, trying to bring myself back to the optimistic state I had existed in for the past twenty minutes. But it was a short-lived effort, because just as I was on the verge of letting Emmalie's eager smile lift me out of the gloomy atmosphere surrounding us, the joy in Alice's eyes disappeared and she spoke the inevitable words of our world as of late. "Edward, we have a problem."

_**Tanya's POV**_

"Pleasant chat?" Victoria questioned as she stealthily approached me, her sarcastic voice startling me out of my obliviously pensive state so abruptly that I jerked at the sound and dropped the phone that I had been gripping much too tightly in the palm of my hand. I watched as the tiny blue gadget went skidding across the tiled floor before it faintly thudded into the opposite wall; I listened to the fading dial tone as I tried to develop enough nerve to look at the callous face that I genuinely wished I would never have laid eyes upon. For a moment, I longed to follow the lead of my vanishing phone so that I might escape the madness of this outrageous situation.

Ever since the heightened sensations from the fight-induced adrenaline had worn off, I had been unable to escape the pervasive disgust that resulted from the sharp memories of what we had done, what _I _had done. My legs had followed Victoria here of their own volition as I repeatedly instructed my brain to squelch the guilt that threatened to overwhelm me, and when I realized that my mind would not be persuaded into a false sense of innocence, I did my best to simply turn it off. It was rather depressing, the idea that, in mere hours, I had more-or-less become Victoria's drone, but mindlessness was certainly more self-satisfactory than internal damnation.

After we broke free from the woods, however, and Victoria had left me alone as she arranged for our departure from Alaska, the soft buzzing of my cell phone reminded me that there were elements of my past that I _didn't_ wish to forget, and, at that particular moment, I realized that I needed the comfort of a familiar voice. If there had been an ounce of good judgment remaining within my body, it might have warned me against accepting Kate's call; it might have reminded me that I had given up any right to expect my family's support the moment I had betrayed them by allowing my jealousy and rage to overrule my limited morality. My reasoning was far too impaired to prevent me from reconnecting with my sister, though, so I brought the phone to my ear and said hello.

It took me less than a minute to realize that Kate was calling for an explanation, confirming my fears that the psychic of Carlisle's family had informed everyone that Emmett had not fallen solely at the hands of Victoria. I knew from Kate's pleas that she was desperate to believe any alternative to the truth, but I could only answer her with silence. As much as I wanted to beg for her forgiveness and blame Victoria for transforming me into the selfish monster that I had become, the truth of it was that _I_ had made the choice to join forces with her; _I_ had made the conscious decision to sacrifice Emmett's life for my own and my surplus of guilt would not allow me the temporary indulgence of being dishonest with my sister.

All too quickly, Kate's heartbroken words disappeared and were replaced by the icy sound of Rosalie's threatening declaration. I couldn't bring myself to blame her for her anger, or for what I knew, inevitably, it would cause her to do. Emmett was an innocent, I had realized that much too late, and now Rosalie wanted vengeance for the injustice of his death. I knew that, in the heat of the moment, I would instinctively defend myself against her advances when—I wouldn't delude myself by thinking _if—_she caught up with me, but I also knew that I, without a doubt, would not be the victor in that battle. I deserved the wrath that would befall me. Actually, if I were to be completely honest with myself, I deserved far worse than the escape that my death would bring.

For now, however, I was held captive where I sat by my fear of immediate death at the hands of the woman standing before me. Hearing Kate's voice had triggered a newfound desire to atone for the sins that I had committed as much as vampirically possible because I wanted to minimize the guilt that my sisters would undoubtedly feel as a result of my actions. But there would be no retribution for any of my family—which, once again, included the Cullens—if Victoria ended my life before continuing on her trek to ruin Edward's. So I remained where I was, awaiting the moment when I amassed the courage and the ability to bring her down.

Victoria's lips were stretched into a false smile when I finally managed to glance at her face, an obvious ruse to avoid undue attention from the humans that surrounded us, but her eyes bored into mine with an intensity that conveyed her extreme disapproval of my rogue conversation, brief as it may have been. It was time for me to make an attempt at damage control and ease any suspicions of disloyalty. I needed to act as if we were still on the same side if I were to have any chance at stopping her before she had the opportunity to hurt someone else. She was the prime example of what happens when rage infiltrates the very essence of a person; she is what I was in grave danger of becoming, and she is what I refused to allow myself, in the limited time left in my existence, to be. My past mistakes may be incorrigible, but my future endeavors would no longer be tainted by hatred or jealousy, and I would devote myself to preserving the well-being of the family from which I had so carelessly disbanded.

"Hardly," I replied to her inquiry as she continued to stare at me, her arms crossed expectantly as she waited for me to provide more details about the conversation. I complied by continuing, "But informative, nonetheless. It seems that Rosalie is quite aggravated with us over Emmett's death and has taken it upon herself to track us down and make us pay." I smirked at that, playing the role of the smug, untouchable co-conspirator with perfection despite the nervousness that was coursing through my veins. "As far as I can tell, she'll be coming alone so we should have nothing to worry about. Especially since, by the time she tracks our scents here, we'll be in the air."

"Pity. I can't think of anything more fulfilling than ridding this world of another despicable Cullen," she stated, her smile replaced quickly by an effectual pout of disappointment. Then, suddenly, her eyes brightened as if someone had just given her a wondrous gift and she suggested, "Maybe we could delay our flight."

Her complete lack of remorse for the murder we had already committed made me feel ill, but I maintained my composure and said, "Not to rain on your parade, Victoria, but I don't think I'm up for another go-round of fighting just yet. I haven't had centuries for my body to acclimate itself to back-to-back battles like you have and I was actually looking forward to relaxing on the plane for a bit." I noticed her eyes narrow slightly, evidence of her skepticism over the true nature of my remarks so I plastered a smile on my lips and continued, "Besides, Rosalie is smart. And highly motivated. I'd be willing to bet she follows us no matter where we go and I'll be more than happy to take her on after we land."

Following a few moments of careful contemplation, the cynicism lifted from her features and Victoria replied, "I suppose you're right. Our bodies _could_ use some rest. And if Rosalie does happen to follow our trail, I'll just make a special request that we be permitted to take care of her ourselves." Through my periphery hearing, I heard the overly pleasant voice emanating from the scattered loudspeakers announce that our flight was in the initial boarding stages. Victoria spun around and walked at a brisk human pace toward the international terminals as she called over her shoulder, "Hurry, Tanya, before we miss our flight."

I rose from the uncomfortable plastic chair and stalked after her, confused and frustrated by her plan to make a "special request" to kill Rosalie. Even if I had wanted to murder Emmett's wife, which I certainly did not, as far as I was aware, our destination was not a place to be making any appeals for favors. There was a strict order to Volterra that left no room for bending or breaking any law created by the three rulers of our people, and I was fairly certain that the Volturi preferred to handle all situations without external interference.

After we passed through the narrow hallway into the large aircraft and seated ourselves in the posh first class section, I fleetingly wondered how, exactly, Victoria had managed to secure our passes until I glanced at the remainder of my ticket and noticed that the name printed on the stub was not my own. I shuddered at the thought of Victoria coercing the tickets from unsuspecting humans because it simply wasn't in her nature to have left them alive. The printed name, Michaela Jennings, held no significance for me, personally, and I typically would be unmoved by the passing of a human. But in the past day I had experienced death so profoundly that I could not help but mourn for the two lives that were sacrificed for these worthless slips of paper.

Before Victoria could detect my glum expression, though, I straightened out my features and continued my previous train of thought by asking, "How do you plan on making such a special request? We don't even know how the Volturi will react to the news that the Cullens have broken the rules and brought a human into the midst of our world. Carlisle has a lot of history with them and we don't know—"

She cut me off with a muffled laugh and sharply said, "Silly child—the Volturi do not make exceptions when it comes to their laws. Carlisle and his coven _will_ perish for the rules they have broken and I have a few tricks up my sleeve to make certain that nothing prevents their demise."

Her lips curled into a wicked smile and I furrowed my brow, wondering what "tricks" she could be referring to. I internally debated between questioning Victoria to maintain as much control over the situation as was possible and remaining quiet to avoid her suspicions. In the end, my curiosity got the best of me and I asked, "What kind of tricks?"

Her smile widened, if that were at all possible, and then she answered, "Well, it's not actually a trick. It's more of a—stroke of luck." She paused, her expression changing from falsely coy to scandalous with the flickering of her eyebrows, and then continued, "You see, Caius and I have a few common _interests_. It wasn't merely a coincidence that James and I ran into the Cullen family last spring."


	21. SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES

**Last time, we found out that Victoria has some sort of connection to the Volturi, and that her and Tanya were heading to Italy. Rosalie was on their trail, Alice and Jasper returned to the hospital, saying that—surprise, surprise—there were problems afoot. Bella was in the midst of changing and we found out that Emmalie has a gift and her thoughts can be heard by Edward. Moving right along…**

**21 ~ Something Wicked This Way Comes**

"**Every night  
I have the strangest dreams  
Runnin' through my head  
And every night  
I have the strangest feelin'…  
Darkness came  
And I gave my heart again  
And that's forever  
It was love and pain  
I'll never be the same  
But I can't surrender  
Don't know what it is  
I'm feelin' stranger and stranger  
I live in my dreams  
And I am feelin' danger…  
Something wicked this way comes  
Something wicked this way comes  
Somebody help me  
Make it throught the night  
Somebody save me  
'Cause somethin' ain't right  
Things ain't what they seem  
Can't wake up from this dream****"**

_**Something Wicked This Way Comes **_**by Warlock**

**Friday, October 7 to Saturday October 8**

_**Alice's POV**_

The entire trek back to the hospital, I had been flip-flopping between bouts of frustration and worry. Both emotions were the result of the knowledge that Victoria and Tanya were en route to Volterra with every intention of spilling the beans to the Volturi about my family's human addition, the result of such accusations, at the very least, being that the Volturi guard would launch a full-blown investigation into our family. We rarely discussed the Italians, but all of us were acutely aware that the future of our family—or, rather, the future of all of us remaining together in our close-knit coven—hinged on us leading lives of absolute caution and maintaining our status as ghosts below the Volturi radar. The moment we became blips on that radar, the royals would find cause to pay us a visit, and the long-dormant friendship once shared among Carlisle and the Italians would never be powerful enough to prevent them from carrying out whatever whim they happened to fancy.

The common preference among the Volturi was to exterminate any and all threats to their way of existence; breaking one of the few rules that governed our people was unforgiveable, no matter the reason behind the action. It was a known fact that the royals disapproved of our lifestyle, deeming it unnatural and disgusting, but as long as we were out of sight, we seemed to also be out of mind. We survived for decades, or, in Carlisle's case, centuries, living amongst the humans while maintaining the secrecy of our world. But then, somewhere along the line, we had all become careless, and now that recklessness was a few weeks away from biting us all in the ass. And there wasn't a damn thing any of us could do about it. Not that I would change the path we had all chosen to take, because the offense we had committed in the eyes of the Volturi—involving a human in the world of the immortals—was also the one thing that had finally resulted in the completion of our family. Bella was the part that each and every one of us, whether we chose to admit it or not, had been missing, and she had changed all of our lives for the better on so many levels. But her knowledge of our existence had also placed us all in grave danger.

Should the Volturi learn of our precarious situation, which seemed inevitable, there were only a few courses of action that they would potentially follow, each one a different means of leading to the same end. The first would be the simplest, the fastest—they would deem that we had all committed a forbidden act and we would be hunted down by the guard and burned. This had been known to happen on many occasions, but my gut instinct told me that the royals would be too curious to follow this path. It seemed likely that they would, instead, demand the sacrifice of Bella's life, eliminating the threat that she would spread the word of our existence to other humans. Their demand would be for one life, but, in the end, I knew it would claim us all, because none of us, especially Edward, would be capable of standing by and allowing Bella to be taken from our lives. We would fight and, once again, we would all perish. It was a harsh reality to face, death, but I could more easily accept that fate than the possibility that remained.

The third potential future initially appears deceptively optimistic. In it, we all had a good chance of survival. Bella would need to be changed and, by her shift to immortality, our slip-up with the rules could be overlooked, but our happiness would be short-lived as our fates eventually became worse than death. Aro, the royal who was renowned for his curiosity and obsession with "collecting" gifted members of our species, would be aware of our existence, of our abilities, and, although he may allow us to live out a few years uninterrupted, eventually, his obsession would consume him and he would come for us. There was no telling exactly who he would want for his collection; Edward and I, without a doubt, were shoo-ins, but Jasper's gift was less rare, and, in Aro's mind, less desirable. Edward's child, pray God that it survived today, would be extremely unique, and would, therefore, also reserve a place on Aro's most wanted list. Obviously, none of us would want to be separated and we would fight to stay together, but, somehow, our desires would no longer matter. Ultimately, our connections, our love, our _lives _would be fractured, and with so many pieces missing, our family would crumble. Outwardly, we would all be alive, but every feeling, every purpose that had previously given us life would be gone. In our minds, we would be dead.

I shuddered at the thought of being forced to live out the remainder of my days as a puppet in the elite Volturi guard; the fear of such a future was the main reason I had never before travelled to Italy. No amount of designer fashions or artistic masterpieces were going to lure me to within a hundred miles of the city I referred to in my mind as "the land of no return." I had heard stories from dozens of trusted resources, including Carlisle, of vampires that were offered positions in the guard, vehemently refused to accept them, and then days later were seen cloaked to the nines and waltzing around Volterra like preprogrammed Italian robots. No one outside the city walls knew for sure how the brainwashing occurred, but one fact was perfectly clear: whomever Aro wanted, Aro eventually received without reservation. I had many strengths, but fighting an unknown force that could alter personal desires and ultimately change lives was recognizably out of my league.

Try as I may, I could come up with no solutions to the problems we faced. Though I had not seen our futures beyond the arrival of the vicious harpies in Volterra and various bits and pieces of their conversation with Caius, our fates, in my mind, were as inevitable as if they had played from start to finish like a movie in my head. Gradually, I was forcing myself to accept what would come to pass, but I had no idea how to break the news to the rest of my family.

_**Rosalie's POV**_

It was liberating, in a way—having someone else to blame. I had known all along, of course, that Victoria had been responsible for what had happened to Emmett, but, for some reason, blaming _her_ had not been enough. Hating Victoria after what she had done to Bella and, consequently, my brother, was natural. The escalation of that hatred came with such ease that it was insufficiently shock-inducing to completely alter the hurt I felt into a relentless anger. True, I was enraged, but it was overshadowed by the pain of my shattered heart. I desperately needed that pain to falter, to recede forever into the deep recesses of my mind before I was crushed beneath the weight of my emotions.

I had tried to find release by faulting my family for Emmett's death, but doing so had served to intensify my grief rather than extinguish it. Then I had learned about Tanya's involvement in the fight, and the hurt that had overwhelmed me quickly evaporated and was replaced by a rage so consuming that every cell in my body seemed to crackle with its murderous energy. With a renewed sense of purpose, my thoughts now focused and devoid of grief, I raced through the forest, following the scents of the two women that I had made it my undying quest to kill.

I broke free from the cover of trees and grudgingly slowed my pace to a brisk walk in order to avoid any unwelcome interference from the bustling humans that now surrounded me. Despite my anger and current desire for vengeful violence that had me lusting to run at full speed until I collided with the two evil women, I was a member of the Cullen family and harming innocent humans was unacceptable. If I were being honest with myself, though, it wasn't my sense of familial respect that held me in check as I allowed my senses to guide me toward Victoria and Tanya. It was the prospect of Emmett's disappointment in my actions should I hurt someone or draw attention to myself or our kind. Emmett had always been the reason for my attempts at bettering myself, the motivator that pushed me to weave together the powers of immortality with the remnants of goodness from my human life. Even though he was gone, I still feared his disapproval, and that fear, I knew, would always govern my decisions.

I walked among the oblivious humans, wondering yet again what the hell I was doing in an airport. It was extremely uncommon for nomads to travel by any means other than their own two feet because running was easier, more discreet and avoided temptations that could draw unwanted attention; it seemed out of character for Victoria to run away at all, let alone for her to do so by way of a commercial airliner. But the women would doubtfully have had time to set up a dummy trail to lead us astray, and I knew that, whatever their purpose, they had been here, standing in the same spot that I was currently occupying.

I stopped walking when I neared the loading gate for one of the Condor airlines terminals, casually sniffed the air, and then growled under my breath when I realized that I had hit a dead-end. The scents I had been following still swirled around me, but they no longer stemmed off in one specific direction, which indicated that the two demons had either stopped giving off an odor—not likely—or that they had passed through the doors that I was now staring at and boarded a plane. A glance at the list of recently departed flights did nothing more than further my confusion over where Victoria and Tanya were headed—the five flights that had left from this gate during the window of time that I estimated the two women could have been at the airport had destinations scattered throughout Europe, but none of the arrival cities specifically caught my attention.

I paced around the terminal, mulling over my limited options with disdain, for none of them were particularly appealing. The first I barely regarded as a possibility, because it involved me ceasing—albeit temporarily—my hunt for the women who killed my husband and returning to the hospital—and my pitying family. Even if delaying the search _was_ a plausible option, which it certainly was not, I had no desire to lash out at my loved ones because of my anger, nor did I wish to revert to the grief-stricken basket case I had been hours ago when I was forced to witness the three loving pairs that now made up the rest of my family. I felt a surge of sympathy for Edward; only now could I truly comprehend the difficulty of being the seventh wheel in a family of happy couples. I hoped that, one day, I would be able to endure life with my parents and siblings again, but for now, my solitude was too raw; it would be best for me to remain alone until my wounds had been given time to heal.

Before I allowed my thoughts to wallow any deeper into my pit of sorrow, I imagined Victoria and Tanya watching the violet flames claim Emmett's life and my anger was restored. My next option for finding them was to catch the next available flight to one of the five possible cities in hopes that I would choose the correct place and be able to track the two of them down. While this choice certainly offered me an opportunity to get what I wanted, I wasn't very enthusiastic about the eighty percent chance that I would pick the wrong place, especially since I was already two steps behind them and, while I would spend an eternity seeking vengeance for Emmett's death if it was required, I didn't relish at the thought of a wild goose chase around the world that could carry on for centuries. I had always been one to seek instant gratification, and this situation was no different. I wanted Tanya and Victoria dead, and I wanted it _now_.

There was a possibility that Alice could sift through visions and determine where Victoria and Tanya could be found, but the likelihood of her immediately informing me of their whereabouts so that I could follow them was slim to none and I wasn't patient enough to wait for her to assemble a search and kill party. Especially since both Edward and Alice would most likely be preoccupied and delayed by Bella's condition. I had no doubts that Edward wanted Victoria to burn as much as I did, but the fact of the matter was that he had other things to concern himself with at the moment. _He_ could wait for retribution. _I_ could not.

I was seething on the inside, growing angrier and angrier with each passing second that I spent wasting my time in this godforsaken terminal. And then, when I passed by the information kiosk for the twentieth time, the air shifted slightly and I smelled it. The scent was faint, but familiar and traceable. It led me away from the gate and down the walkway, past the sickly-smelling fast-food restaurants and over-priced magazine vendors. As I reached the door with a placard that read "EMPLOYEES ONLY", the scent became slightly stronger and I felt the venom start to flow in my mouth and coat my razor-sharp teeth. I quickly glanced from side to side to ensure that no inquisitive human would make the poor choice of following me into the darkened room, and then I forcefully turned the knob, cracked open the door and slipped inside.

I flicked on the light and was, sadly, unsurprised at the sight that befell my eyes. The remains of two human women, as well as what I assumed to be their belongings, lay sprawled across the floor. The expressions on both of their faces were frozen, displaying the terror of their last moments of life for all who were unfortunate enough to witness them. The only evidence of injury was also as I had expected—two deep, crescent-shaped markings on each woman's neck, no more than a few drops of their blood spared to trickle to the floor. I prayed that Victoria had, at the very least, been quick and humane when she had killed these two women, though the idea did not sync with her nature of cruelty.

I forced myself to overcome the strong scent of blood in the surrounding air and began rummaging through the suitcases of the latest victims in Victoria's killing spree, praying that these women had lost their lives not only to satiate a vampire's thirst but also to provide the tickets that Tanya and Victoria would need to peacefully get wherever they were going. I was in no way grateful that the humans had perished, but at least if they could offer some indication of the plans my vampire prey had made, I might be able to claim justice for their unnecessary deaths as well. I carelessly tossed clothing and toiletries about the room, growing frustrated as no item offered hints as to their destination. I was on the verge of giving up when I unzipped a backpack with the embroidered initials "MJ" and, amidst the sweaters and an assortment of accessories for an expensive-looking digital camera, I found what I had been looking for.

It was nothing definitive; it could have easily been a source of leisure reading, indicating an appreciation of centuries-old architecture rather than a traveling destination. But for some reason, my intuition flickered and all of the cogs and gears in my mind seemed to effortlessly click into place. I knew where they were going, and I had a fairly good idea of why they were going there. The destination was not one that had been listed at the terminal, but now that I had been given time to think about it, the idea that they would be catching a connecting flight from a different European city into Italy was a reasonable one. Thanks to _Brunelleschi's Dome, _I was going to follow them to Florence and then, if my inkling was correct, to Volterra. And when I found them, I was going to extract my revenge so that I could find peace and make sure that the two malicious bitches could never again hurt my family.

_**Victoria's POV**_

I detested flying. If time had been of no consequence, I would have gladly run and swam my way back to my home. As it were, time _was_ relevant. Every second that the despicable child drew breath, every moment that Edward Cullen was permitted to feel love and desire and hope was one moment too many. He needed to suffer as I had suffered and then he needed to die. They all did. And the sooner I could get back to Caius, apologize for the delay, and report that I had acquired the information he had requested all those months ago, the better. It still grated against my stone skin that I had botched my prior attempt at killing Isabella and eternally punishing Edward for James' death, but it would do me no good to think about that now. I may have failed once, but my failure had only served to increase my determination to succeed this next time. And with Caius' backing, success was inexorable. The Cullens would become ashes and I would return to my rightful place in the Volturi guard. The path of the future was so tangible that I could almost feel the dark, heavy cloak surrounding my shoulders once again.

It seemed almost ironic that the desire to rid myself of that destiny—one of servitude to the Volturi—was the reason I had embarked on the journey to Washington in the first place. I was desperate to lose myself in the joys of new love, away from the responsibilities I held within the walls of Volterra, so Caius and I had struck a deal: if I committed one final expedition on his behalf, he would grant his blessing for me, one of his prized fighters, to leave the guard with no strings attached. He was offering me a gift never before bestowed upon a member of the guard—the opportunity to live out the remainder of my existence wherever, and with whomever, I chose. Now I was returning to Italy, alone as far as my heart was concerned and utterly convinced that it had been my destiny all along to finish out my days in the city of my rebirth into the world of vampires.

I could recall very little about the time I spent in Italy as a human, although every so often a scent or a voice would draw forth images of men and women that I seemed on the brink of recognizing before they quickly returned to the abysmal hole that had swallowed up my human memories. What I did know was that I had been a part of one of the Volturi's ritualistic mass feedings at some point during the early nineteenth century. Out of the forty or so humans that had heedlessly walked into the domain of the thirsty vampires, I was the only spitfire who refused to go quickly and without one hell of a fight, and, as such, Caius, who had been entertained by my spirit and satiated by the blood of at least three other humans, had chosen to give me the reward of immortality rather than doom me to my death. Never once had I given him reason to regret his decision. From the day that my heart had stopped beating and the burning sensation had faded away, I had proven my worth and desire and ability to do battle. I was, in Caius' own flattering words, an unstoppable fighting machine. I lived as my sire's own personal warrior for nearly two centuries, and I did so happily. Until the day I met James.

From the very first moment my eyes had met his, a connection had sprung forth between us that had seemed, to my naïve mind, to join us in an indestructible union. In hindsight, I realized that the strength of emotions that I felt for James were not reciprocated in equal measure; while he unquestionably enjoyed my company, there were desires much stronger than the bond of mates that had steered him on the path of his life. Back then, though, I thought he had been created in this world for the sole purpose of making me whole.

It became clear early on that James settling down in Volterra with any amount of permanence was an impossibility. He was a tracker, a free spirit, driven by challenges and opposition, and I decided rather quickly that wherever he went, I was destined to follow. I knew that breaking free from the guard would be difficult, but, as with my fighting, my determination was unwavering, and when Caius presented the opportunity, I readily accepted it.

Perhaps I should have realized then that the absolute simplicity of the situation merely foreshadowed the imminent difficulty that my future would hold, but I chose to see my good fortune as further proof that I was destined to be with James for eternity. If I closed my eyes and cleared my mind, it was effortless to remember the feeling of giddiness that had assailed me as James and I left for the United States; it was easy to remember how arrogant I had been that we would perform the assigned task with ease and then be free to enjoy each other for the remainder of our lives. The mission, after all, had seemed simple enough—I was to locate a coven lead by a vampire named Carlisle Cullen and observe the actions of their group until such a time that I could provide evidence that they had broken a sacred law of our kind, thereby sentencing themselves to a burning end at the hands of my fellow guard members.

When my curious nature caused me to inquire as to the reasoning behind such a request, Caius sat me down and spent hours retelling the tale of the rarely-mentioned fourth Volturi brother who had left Italy to lead a life of peculiarity many years before I was born. As my sire spun the tale of his former friend, my eyes were opened to a world previously unknown to me. I found it astounding that there were vampires that willingly made the choice to fight the natural laws of the food chain and live in hiding amongst the humans, guided by an unhealthy sense of morality. As I saw it, we were predators and humans were prey; we needed to feed on them to survive and there was no right or wrong when it came to self preservation. Still, it was difficult for me to understand what would cause so much hatred between Caius and the Cullen vampire that he would desire to condemn his ex-friend to death.

So I stopped listening to merely Caius' words, and drank in his tones and expressions as well. It was blatantly obvious that Caius held a grudge against this unknown brother, this _Carlisle_, for leaving Italy against the wishes of the royal three, but that wasn't the true reason for his request. Yes, Caius wanted Carlisle—and his _family—_to pay for betraying his brothers, his duty, his very _kind_. But underlying that sense of betrayal was an all-too-familiar emotion to me—_fear_. I recognized the look in his eyes as one that I had seen in every opponent I had ever faced. It took me a while to decipher the foundation of his fear, but, in time, it struck me. I realized that Caius was afraid that Carlisle's way of life, whether it be a single decade or many centuries in the future, would appeal to the masses of our kind who, retaining an essence of humanity, would seek to live in peace with mankind. From that appeal would stem a mutiny, and from that mutiny the house of the Volturi would fall. It seemed laughable to me then, but now, as I had hours of nothing to do but sit and ponder and watch the clouds drift past the oval window of the airplane, the possibility of that future seemed more real than I could ever have imagined.

Which was precisely why the Cullens had to perish as soon as possible. I found myself wishing, once again, that James had just listened to me those many months ago, that he had, for once in his life, been able to resist the temptation of a challenge. If we had left Washington after our first contact with the Cullen coven and informed Caius that they had entrusted a human with our secret, I was certain the family of _vegetarian _vampires would have been nothing more than ashes as quickly as the Volturi could give the order for the guard to carry out their commands for justice.

Regrettably, James had been unable to overrule his strong desire to outwit the Cullens, and the rest, as they say, is our miserable history. Maybe it was wrong of me to let my personal feelings outweigh my sense of duty to my sire; perhaps I should have returned to Italy instead of helping James or, at the very least, as soon as he was killed by the Cullens. But my heart that had so rapidly swollen with love at his existence was even more suddenly filled with rage at his death, and I had decided that this was a fight I wanted to face on my own first. It is absolutely ridiculous that the first adversary I failed to kill was a human, although my record could likely be salvaged by the simple fact that Isabella hardly qualified as an adversary.

The memories of the way I had flung her body about like a rag doll brought a smile to my face, but my expression quickly soured as I glanced around the cabin and my eyes came to rest on Tanya's pensive form. Something about her had shifted since we had arrived at the airport and she had taken the call from her sister. I supposed it was to be expected, but I was thoroughly disappointed that my optimism over having finally found an apt pupil that could one day become my fighting partner was unfounded. She certainly had the energy to become a skilled warrior, but, unlike when we had first met, she lacked the drive, the inspiration. Sadly, I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Tanya was a liability in dire need of handling. She had served me well in the fight against Emmett, and her mind could certainly accentuate my case against the Cullens should Aro take an interest in getting involved, but beyond that, she was useless, disposable. It was a pity, indeed, but it seemed as though Tanya would be the next casualty in this war.

_**Alice's POV**_

I approached the door to the operating room slowly, trying to work up the courage to plaster on a brave face for the reunion with my family members. I had been silent during our sprint back to the hospital, leaving Jasper with no more than emotional cues as to the future that awaited our family, and, thanks to his ignorance, he was able to brush my spiky hair aside, rub his thumb across my cheek and softly, honestly whisper, "Whatever it is, Alice, we'll figure it out. I promise." I looked at him, attempting a smile that fell short of believable, not knowing how to tell my husband that he shouldn't make promises that fate would not allow him to keep.

I took a deep breath and shoved the door open, noticing at once the sound of a changing heart. I glanced at Bella's still body and then moved my stare to the monitor that confirmed what my ears had heard—Bella was becoming one of us. Apparently, a lot had transpired here while we were gone, and under different circumstances, I might have grabbed Edward by the hand and demanded a full explanation for what had _finally _caused him to end his foolishness and change her. But this was not the time for discussions of things more trivial than our family's demise, so my eyes continued their trip around the room until they fell upon the cherubic child that my brother lovingly held in his arms. I couldn't help but smile a little bit as the small girl gazed at me in wonder, nor could I prevent the shock that assaulted me when I took in Edward's expression. For the first time in God knew how long, my brother was _grinning_; he was well and truly _happy_. For the briefest instant, I was overjoyed for him, but then reality intruded and my happiness crashed. Because I knew that the fact that Edward had been lifted to soaring heights would only serve to devastate him all the more when I informed him of what I had seen.

I didn't want my words to be the reason the new light in Edward's eyes burned out. I didn't want to be the bearer of bad tidings, the snuffer of our family's candle of hope. No, what I desperately wanted was to lie, to encourage his long overdue delight and allow my family to live out whatever time we had left in blissful ignorance. But lying was one of the few luxuries I had not been afforded, so I stared straight into his eyes and said, "Edward, we have a problem."

My brother's smile did not immediately disappear as I had expected; instead it merely became taut as his daughter—my perfect, beautiful, amazingly wonderful niece that should be getting showered with affection by her favorite aunt instead of being regarded with a glum expression—reached up to touch his cheek, capturing his undivided attention and causing him to whisper, "That's your Aunt Alice and your Uncle Jasper," as if he were responding to a question of who we were. While I was pondering the implications of that, Edward continued speaking to the tiny girl. "You'll get to say hello to them soon, but for right now I need you to go with," he paused for an instant like he were deliberating something in his mind, exchanged a look and a nod with the man who was apparently no longer his adversary—when did that happen?—and then finished, "your Uncle Conner while Daddy and Gramma and Grampa have a little chat with them, okay?" To my complete and utter disbelief, his daughter looked at him, nodded her head, and then touched her tiny palm to his lips. Less than a second passed before Edward's broad grin lit up the room once again and he said, "I love you, too, Emmalie." _Emmalie. _The name was perfect, a fitting memorial to our beloved brother and the happiness that he showered upon everyone he cared for.

All too soon, Conner brushed past us with Emmalie cradled protectively in his arms and then the five of us were left alone to have the discussion I had been dreading. Before I was given time to form the cursed words, though, Edward asked, "Alice, where is Rosalie?"

I sighed and my exhausted body slumped into the lone chair that existed inside the operating room before I answered, "She's fine, for now. We initially left because she went off after Tanya and Victoria after she learned that both of them were responsible for Emmett's death. But eventually she's going to hit a dead-end and be forced to regroup back here with us because the evil wenches that are hell-bent on messing up our lives are at it again." I couldn't help the scowl that twisted upon my face as I thought of the two women that I wished would just _die _already. My frustration mingled with a fatigue that was arguably the worst I had experienced in my immortal life was rapidly shifting my despair to sarcastic indifference. I was just so damn _sick _of this mess.

"What do you mean 'are at it again'?" Edward said frantically, his gaze flitting repeatedly from Bella's motionless face to the door through which his daughter had just exited, fear replacing his calm at the thought of the two most important pieces of his life being threatened yet again. "What are they planning?" The answer passed through my mind before it was even given the opportunity to exit my lips and I saw Edward's eyes widen in shock before, just as quickly, narrowing in fury. "They're going to the Volturi?" he asked, but I knew the question was rhetorical for he had seen just as much as I had in the vision that assaulted me in the woods.

"Yup," I said, giving the 'p' an ungraceful pop before I began massaging my temples to alleviate the sudden headache that was brewing. The reason behind the surfacing pain was irrelevant; I was more focused on the fact that it just _figured_ that _I _would be the one vampire out of our entire species to be subjected to headaches. And that they would start, of all times, when I had more than enough other problems to deal with.

Carlisle chimed in at the mention of his former friends asking, "What are they planning to tell them? As of Bella's change today, we have broken no laws; the Volturi have no justification to attempt punishment." His worried tone counteracted his assured words, but I tried wholeheartedly to disregard his anxiety and find hope in his convictions. It was a vain attempt.

"That may be true, Carlisle," I responded, lifting my gaze to meet my father's eyes. "But Tanya and Victoria were unaware of the turn of events here today, so as far as the Volturi will be concerned, Edward, and by extension, all of us, will stand accused of bringing a human into the secret of our lives. Caius, at the very least, will demand that the accusation be explored and even if we are exonerated from the charge, the royals will undoubtedly infiltrate our lives to the full extent of their abilities now that we are no longer blocked from their realm of interest."

We were doomed. They would track us down, divide us and conquer. I would lose Jasper and Edward—poor Edward—he would lose Bella and Emmalie when we were forced to join the Volturi in Italy. Provided that Emmalie didn't first become their sick, demented rendition of a science experiment. My thoughts paused at Edward's furious growl—he had obviously been eavesdropping on my mind and I felt terrible. No matter what I did, lately, I always seemed to worsen the situation rather than make it better. I hated my visions. I hated them with the raging inferno of a thousand suns. I wanted to lobotomize my brain so that I wouldn't have to hurt anymore, feel anymore, _see _any—

But I did. Right then, I saw something else. A darkened room made of ebony stones lit only by the orange glow of firelight. The room was unfamiliar, but its blonde inhabitant was not. She was seated in a chair that was reminiscent of a medieval throne used by kings and queens of the dark ages. Standing before her was an attractive figure with long, jet-black hair and skin that appeared as translucent and thin as a fallen snowflake. His eyes were closed and his hands were cupping Rosalie's cheeks as she stared up at him, a look of smug satisfaction on her face. Moments passed without a word uttered between them until, suddenly, the mysterious man's eyes flickered open and he released his hold on my sister's face.

A menacing smile appeared on his lips as he quietly said, "Thank you, my dear. Your mind was most…_enlightening_. Now that you have served your purpose, you are free to go." He stared toward a darkened corner of the room as a tiny figure emerged and then continued, "Jane? Would you be so kind as to show Rosalie how much we appreciate her services?" He began to walk toward a doorway and the figure referred to as Jane shifted her gaze to Rosalie moments before my sister fell to the ground writhing in an agony I could not understand. I heard his evil voice utter one final order before the vision left my mind: "Move her to the fire and then come along, Jane. We have some pressing business to discuss with Caius. And Victoria."

No. No, no, no! There was no way Rosalie could have known where they were headed. I saw her coming back to us. I saw it. I saw—

Another vision, a rapid, blurred and shifting vision originating from a recently-made decision that was not yet set in stone. I narrowed my eyes at my brother, my whirlwind of energy returning full force as I realized just exactly what he was planning to do now that he had seen the most recent vision I hadn't had the time or the mental capacity to hide from him. I jabbed his chest repeatedly with my index finger as I vehemently stated, "Edward—no. Just get that absurd notion out of your head right this instant. There is no way in hell I'm going to let you go through with it." I knew he felt my pokes, but he wasn't looking at me anymore. Instead, he was looking _through_ me, gazing at the healing face of his beloved Bella with a look of remorse. And in that instant, I knew. His mind was already made up. And just like the last time that I had warned him against following his irrational ideas, I was powerless to prevent him from following through with his decision.

But that didn't mean that I wasn't going to try to stop him anyway.


	22. NOT MY HOME

**Okay, so, in the last chapter we learned a little bit about Victoria's past, that Rosalie is hopping a plane to Italy to extract her revenge, that Alice believes her family is doomed to be broken apart, and that Edward is still stupid. Let's learn a little more, mmmkay? Onward!**

**22 ~ Not My Home**

"**The road I travel leads to a place**

**A building made of brick and stone**

**Its memories full of warmth and grace**

**Its walls have stood the tests of time**

**But it is not my home**

**No, it is not mine**

**These halls I walk are empty**

**Save for the fear and hate**

**It consumes the very heart of me**

**A love I can't erase**

**Growing as I wait, I wait**

**Longing for your embrace**

**You promised and you broke**

**You swore that you would stay**

**Said you couldn't leave, and I awoke**

**I believed the lie you told**

**But found you'd gone away**

**And I am alone, broken, cold**

**What is left for me here**

**In this building made of brick and stone**

**I am a ghost without you, dear**

**As I view the darkness, vacant stares**

**It is not my home**

**If you are not there"**

_**Not My Home **_**by starcrossdlover**

**Saturday, October 8**

_**Bella's POV**_

It all happened rather slowly, with the peripherals fading away first, the haze going unnoticed until it began to impinge upon the central points of my focus. When the reality of what was happening could no longer be denied, when I knew that the fog was mere moments away from claiming what remained of my world, I watched them in their happy moment, trying desperately to convince myself that _this_ was enough. I knew that, all things considered, it should have been sufficient to see my child safe and healthy, cradled in the loving arms of her father. It should have been more than adequate that the last images to meet my eyes were of the man I loved, the brilliance of his broad smile easily able to outshine the brightest sun. It should have been and yet, instead of feeling happy, grateful even, for the blessings bestowed upon me before my time had come, I felt jaded. My arms, numb and damaged as they were, longed to feel my daughter wrapped in their embrace. My lips, parched and scraped and broken as they were, yearned to know the feeling of her baby soft skin, even if it were only for a second. The cloud grew thicker, though, and I was forced to accept that my desires would remain as they were—strong yet painfully unattainable.

I struggled to coax my lips into moving, strained to whisper the words I had foolishly imagined I would have more time to say. I should have told him that I loved him every moment since we had been reunited, but I had been scared and my fear had caused the truth to remain hidden in my heart. No matter how hard I fought, the three simple words that I wished to speak remained trapped in the recesses of my throat. Before I completely succumbed to the darkness, I managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes as he turned to look at me. I couldn't be certain if the smile in my mind managed to grace my lips, but I hoped that it had. I hoped that he had always known that, no matter my actions or words to the contrary, I had loved him with absolutely everything I possessed. I had given him every gift my limited body had been able to give. I hoped that it had been enough.

I hoped—for something unknown because as the haze overwhelmed me, it numbed my mind, stealing my memories and placating the loss with a consuming peace. I was floating away, to whom or what I was not sure, and I could not be convinced to care. The tether that for so long had secured the fragile balloon of my life to the ground, to earth, to _life_ had finally been released, and the delicate string, frayed and withered from repeated breakages and refastenings, would not survive another attempt at salvation. Fate had finally won, and I was free.

I didn't know how long I floated into the abyss, but there came a time when I noticed a flicker of light in the distance. I willed myself, fueled by curiosity rather than courage, to move toward the light, and as it grew stronger, as my world began to revert back into focus, I found myself in a familiar place. It was lush and green, with sunlight filtering through the dense canopy of trees. _The meadow_ my thoughts seemed to cry out, the locked door on my memories lapsing just long enough for me to recall this beautiful setting. As quickly as it had opened, though, the door slammed shut and I was left with no further information except that this place had been important to me.

_This is like a dream _I thought as I absorbed the sight of the delicate ivory dress that cascaded down my body. I twirled around, my arms outstretched, watching as the fabric flowed outward in a whimsical twist. I delighted in the feel of the cool grass dancing between my bare toes. My curiosity resumed and walked across the green expanse, my fingers trailing along the mossy bark of the tall trees before I was compelled to stop, close my eyes, and inhale the wonderfully sweet aroma of the golden wildflowers that grew in a vine that surrounded one particularly large trunk. This—I inhaled once again, allowing the scent of honey and snowflakes to envelop me—was perfection.

I opened my eyes, and instantly realized that I was no longer alone. A man stood before me, a beautiful man with adorably messy hair the color of a worn penny and eyes that sparkled like emeralds with expectation in the patchy rays of sunlight. In his arms was a small child, her coppery locks flowing down her back in haphazard curls, her face nuzzled into the crook of the man's neck. I felt a tinge of recognition as I studied them, and yet, I could not draw forth any information about the pair. Until the child lifted her head from the comfort of the man's shoulder and looked into my face with chocolate brown eyes that were mirror images of my own, and the locked door of my memories swung wide open. "Edward? Emmalie?" I gasped, and the child was on the ground running and leaping into my opened arms in an instant. I hugged her close, happy tears running down my face, and then I felt his strong arms wrap us both in a tight embrace as his gentle lips kissed away the trail of water on my cheeks.

"Welcome home," he whispered in my ear between kisses, and I realized that I had been wrong. This was not perfection. No, this was much, much more. This was _heaven_. I had everything I wanted, and I was _happy. _Emmalie's arms remained around my neck as Edward released his hold on us and took my hand, bringing it to his lips for a sweet, romantic kiss before intertwining our fingers and tugging gently to lead me toward an unknown destination. We walked a few steps in a comfortable silence before the sun abruptly broke through the leaves, the flash of light momentarily blinding me and causing my hand to break free from Edward's to shield my eyes from the scorching brightness.

As quickly as it had come, the painful glow had disappeared. I felt the heat leave my face and, once again feeling safe, I opened my eyes. Immediately, I wanted to close them again, because it was not just the light that had disappeared. Edward was no longer beside me, and my arms were empty and wrapped tightly around my core. My beautiful dress cinched against me, suffocating me as it was stained by the droplets of water that fell from the sky—and my eyes. The greens and golds and browns of the meadow were smudging together in the rain, until everything around me was a dull black. "No!" I cried as I began floating again, away from the place that had brought me serenity, brought me Edward and my daughter, brought me _home_. I reached for it, struggled against the force that was tugging on me, trying desperately to get back to my heaven.

I continued to reach, continued to cry, continued to fight to no avail. And then, I heard a whisper. It was crying my name, _he _was calling my name. My crumbled heart began to mend as I realized that my Edward wasn't gone; he was searching for me, calling out to me. "Please, Bella. You have to live," my angel softly said to me, and I realized I was no longer floating. I was _running_, racing against the fog and the burning in my lungs, the exhaustion in my limbs to get to his voice, to _him._ The sound was growing louder; I knew I had to be getting closer, but each step came with increasing difficulty. The burning had spread outward from my lungs, causing my run to dwindle into a walk, then a crawl, and then, to my utter dismay, I found myself unable to move.

"I'm here," I croaked, my throat dry and sweltering as the sweat dripped out of my pores from the fire that was enveloping me. "Edward, I'm—" Burning. I was burning.

_**Edward's POV**_

I had always felt that I was a selfish creature, but at this very moment, I was bracing myself to make some significant choices that would go against every egocentric desire I had ever held. I was fractured, fighting an internal battle of wills for a second time in as many hours, only this time it was not a war for which I had been given ample time to prepare. It had hit me out of nowhere, an assault of images for a destiny that I did not want to accept. I was disinclined to simply let go of my selfish tendencies and allow my sincerest wishes to float away, beyond my grasp, perhaps, even, out of my life forever.

On one side, I was Bella's Edward, the lover, the father who would do anything to spend an eternity wrapped up in the two people that constituted equal halves of my still heart. This was my self-interested side, the one that, if followed, would lead me down a path of pleasure, of contentment. Before me lay every intimate desire, every precious fantasy that I had ever imagined since meeting Bella. With one decision, they could all be mine for the taking. But there was no escape from consequences. No matter how far or how fast I ran, no matter how expertly I was able to hide, eventually they would find me. Despite that knowledge, the temptation to test fate was strong, mesmerizing.

And yet, my other side still crusaded point for point. It was the side that, if ignored, threatened to eat away at the meager remnants of my soul, darkening my existence so that any happiness, no matter how great, would leave me feeling unfulfilled. It was the side of me that had existed _before _Bella. It was the part of me that would always be Edward Cullen, the brother and the son who had a duty to protect his family, a responsibility to ensure that his coven remained free from harm, free from a dealer of death that should have no claim on the innocent. I was not the innocent in this trial; in fact, I was the _only_ damnable offender. I had a purpose greater than any of my desires, perhaps even greater than love itself, and that was loyalty, accountability. The awareness of this, though, did not make the decision any easier. I was torn in two, swearing allegiance to both sides of myself, but, at some point, I knew that I would have to pull it together and choose one side or the other. This was life at its worst, after all, and there was no way that, this time, I could have the best of both worlds.

I had made so many promises as both men, and it was with a heavy heart that I found myself acknowledging which of those now-contradictory oaths I would be forced to break in order to do what was right. After Emmett died, I had vowed that I would never again let the rest of my family suffer the consequences of the choices I had made. I had vowed to fight my own battles, to resume the roll of the protector that my brother's passing had left vacant. It had been my decision to involve a human in our lives, and it was only just that I be the one to be judged for that action. I could not allow Rosalie to pay for my sins, to experience the future that Alice had seen. Emmett had died to protect the woman I loved and, if it came to it, I would do the same to protect the one he had cherished. I owed him at least that much.

I hoped it would not come to that, though, my death. Because I had also made a promise to Bella, a solemn vow to never leave her side. When I had whispered those words to her unconscious form, they had been the truest of any I had ever spoken. I had been so sure, then, that nothing and no one could keep us apart. It was strange, and cruel, really, how much difference a few days, a few hours can lay waste to one's deepest convictions. Because now I could no longer be certain if I would be able to fulfill my vow to any extent. I wanted to believe that I could fix this mess. I wanted to believe that our separation would be only a temporary parting. The sad fact was, though, that there were no guarantees as to the outcome of my voyage. I could live or I could die, but my life, at least, would be an unknown. I could choose to make my survival a certainty, but as a result, Rosalie's death would be equally as definite. I could not, in good conscience, sentence my sister to an absolute end in order to save my own undeserving life.

Consequently, I had made my choice. The only dilemma I now faced was figuring out a plan of action for when I arrived in Volterra. I deliberated the limited options available and continuously came to the same conclusion: the solution with the greatest likelihood of success was simple honesty. _I_ knew that Bella had never been a threat to the exposure of our secret, but the Volturi did not know her as I did. They would not understand from the words of the women who were determined to bring about our downfall that Bella would protect us, protect our secret with her life, no matter how badly we treated her. If I travelled to Volterra and allowed Aro to view my thoughts, if he witnessed our love story through my eyes, if he could be assured that Bella was changing now, negating the argument of her threat to our way of life then, perhaps, the Volturi's quarrel with me and my family would end.

After I had decided upon my course, I could not help the cynicism the crept into my mind like a weed, choking out the blossoms of hope before they had even been given a chance to steel my confidence. My own doubtful brain had turned against me, whispering that this plan was doomed to fail, twisting a dagger of lies about final goodbyes and broken dreams into my distraught mind. I took a few deep breaths and struggled to push my reservations aside. _It is the right thing to do _I repeatedly chanted, refusing to allow the paralyzing possibilities to overwhelm me, to change my mind. Admittedly, my plan _was_ a long-shot; it placed an abundance of faith in the Volturi's sense of justice and integrity, two traits which had been noticeably absent in Alice's vision of our sister's death. But, no matter the odds, I had to try. I had to do _something _to save Rosalie and protect the rest of our family, protect Bella, protect my daughter. I could not allow myself to falter simply because of how much I stood to lose.

My mind was set once again, unyielding, but the potential repercussions of my decision weighed heavily on my conscience, and my heart, as I looked past my sister and gazed upon Bella's angelic face. Less than an hour ago, I had begged her not to leave me, and then made certain that she never permanently could. And now, in the harshest of all ironies, it was I who was departing into the unknown; it was _I_ who would be saying farewell to _her_. I felt Alice's persistent jabbing at my ribs, I heard her insist that my decision was reckless and inappropriate, but I couldn't bring myself to argue with her or defend my position. I could only stare at my perfect Bella, committing every minute detail of her beautiful form to memory one last time. I fought to overcome the lump in my throat, the panic in my chest, the motionlessness of the limbs of my body that refused to budge, save for one purpose—to wrap Bella in my arms and hold on to her tightly, forever, for all that I was worth.

I had thought that walking away from her once was the most difficult task I would ever have to perform until I had been given many opportunities to re-evaluate that assessment in the days and weeks that followed my departure. I now realized, though, that nothing—not the agony of the delusion of her death nor the sight of her body, bloodied and broken after Victoria's attack—would be even remotely as painful as leaving her for a second time knowing that I was _choosing_ a destiny where I might never again hear her voice, or touch her hair, or kiss her lips, or gaze into her dazzling eyes. The first time I had left her, I had thought it for the best and had imagined her living out a full and happy life without me. When I had almost lost her, I had blamed myself, yes—immeasurably—but it had never been my decision, my _intention_ for her life to follow that merciless path. I had always wanted the best for her, believed that her happiness would come to pass. I _knew _that if I left her now and didn't return, if I betrayed her trust once again, it would crumble the very foundation of her existence. She would _survive_, perhaps even find joy in our daughter, but there would be a part of her that would never fully _live _with me gone. I _knew _this fact, and I had decided to leave her anyway. I was a heartless fiend for it, I loathed my very existence, but I could not force myself to change my mind. Because it continued to chant like the relentless beat of a soldier's drum that this was the right thing to do.

The mantra continued pulsing throughout my head, joined seconds later by the duet of an angry voice. It was calling my name, both mentally and audibly, but I didn't respond until a small fist brutally contacted my jaw. My concentration had effectively been broken, and I whipped my head down to stare angrily at my attacker.

_**Alice's POV**_

__"Damn it, Alice," Edward hissed as his hand rose to rub his jaw and he looked down at me with a menacing expression in his eyes. I was too perturbed to be bothered by the look, and I felt no remorse for the method I had used to bring him back from whatever little vacation his mind had decided to take him on for the past two minutes. After all, shouting at him hadn't worked; physical stimulation was the obvious alternative. And hitting him had certainly helped to alleviate the tension that his pigheaded scheme to play hero had caused to build within me.

"Well maybe if you wouldn't have been off in loony-land thinking up a plan to go and get yourself killed, or _worse_, I wouldn't have been forced to grab your attention in such an offensive fashion." His eyes narrowed at me and he crossed his arms in front of himself defensively. I knew this position well; I had seen it countless times before when Edward was on one of his many 'I'm right and no one can tell me differently' kicks. After the day I had experienced, I was in no mood to be patient with his stubborn antics.

"It is not a plan to get myself killed, Alice. It is the best option we have for saving Rosalie. And it is the _only_ option we have at protecting this _entire family_ from suffering the wrath of the Volturi. As far as they will know, we _all_ have broken one of the sacred laws by letting Bella into our family, so we _all_ will be forced to suffer the consequences. I cannot let that happen. I have to make this right." His eyes became begging, but his pleas for understanding and compassion fell upon deaf, unaffected, highly-aggravated ears. He wanted me to tell him it was okay that he was acting like a complete idiot. He wanted me to tell him that I would go along with his ill-fated plan to save the day. In short, he wanted me to do what I usually did—give in to him because he was my big brother and I adored him and he was certainly old enough to make his own decisions in life. But adoration and sibling love had their limitations, and, while Edward was clearly skilled at _making_ decisions, he was downright horrible at making _good _ones.

I stood on my tip-toes and leaned my head back to give the illusion of as much height as I could gather, and then I repetitively poked him in the chest again as I spoke, my words growing increasingly louder in volume, "Edward Anthony Cullen. For once in your century of stubborn existence, you are going to listen to me, and you are going to listen _well_. You, under absolutely **NO** circumstances, will be flying to Italy **ALONE**. In fact, you will not be flying there at all. IN FACT, if you set one foot inside of an airport in the next year, I swear to God, I will—"

"Alice," Jasper said soothingly, emitting a wave of calm that had no affect on my wired state as he gently grasped and lowered the hand, or, rather, index finger, that I had been using to physically accentuate Edward's verbal lashing. "You are absolutely right. Edward will not be going to Italy alone." I let out a deep sigh of satisfaction and crossed my arms in front of me as I stared at my brother, who I only now realized was cornered against the wall as a result of my finger-punching. Edward stared right back at me for a moment and then his gaze fixated on Jasper. His brow furrowed and his frown deepened, both signs that whatever declaration Jasper was making in his mind were not swaying the argument in Edward's direction. I, on the other hand, could not have been more contented. Victory was in the air and if it hadn't been for the otherwise sorrowful conditions surrounding my family at present, I might have done a mini-happy dance.

"Absolutely not," Edward stated matter-of-factly, shaking his head from side to side as he pushed off of the wall behind him and stalked toward us. "This is_ my_ responsibility, mine alone. I will not allow you to put your life in danger for me." I looked back and forth between my husband and Edward as they continued their mental chitchat, wondering what Jasper had "said" to warrant my brother's outburst. I contemplated Edward's words, my irritation growing to an almost volatile level as I deduced what Jasper must have suggested.

Their eyes were locked in a silent, but heated debate, and neither of them seemed to notice my belligerent expression. I inhaled deeply and blew out the breath along with what little bit of anger I could manage to dispel as I tried to reason with myself. Jasper, after all, was my husband, and he was also a very wise fellow. After all these years, he would know better than to cross me in a situation like this. He would. I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Another breath. Okay. I plastered a tight smile on my face and spoke up, breaking them out of their brief mental tiff. "Jasper, honey, what is Edward talking about?" His expression was sheepish when he looked at me, and I instantly narrowed my gaze. "Jasper?" I said expectantly through clenched teeth, my arms crossing in front of my chest and my hip jutting out in the most indignant stance I could muster. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words came out. I was growing more impatient by the second.

"You should tell her," Edward piped in, his sullen body seemingly energized by his devilish air. When Jasper continued to show that he was incapable of speech, Edward looked at me and continued, "Jasper doesn't think I should go to Italy alone. He thinks things would be much better if he went along. I happen to disagree. What do you think, Alice?"

Little warning lights might has well have started flashing and beeping in the confines of this tiny space to notify its occupants of the imminent explosion, because I had just bypassed all of the danger zones and launched myself into no holds barred attack mode. "What do I think? What do I THINK?" I practically screamed at the two men standing before me. "I think that someone should quarantine this place because Edward's insanity is obviously contagious." I stared at Jasper and continued, "After everything we've been through, after you saw and _felt_ how much losing Emmett destroyed Rosalie, why in God's name would you leave me and risk your own life?" His mouth fell open to reply but I stopped him. "No. I'm not finished. Do you _want_ me to end up a widow like our sister? Do you _want_ my heart to break into a zillion pieces? Do you _want_ me to spend the rest of the centuries of my life feeling guilty and alone and unhappy? Do you?" He lowered his eyes and I could feel the waves of his remorse flowing through me, but that wasn't enough. I wanted him to answer my questions. I lowered my voice and asked him again, "Is that what you want for me, Jasper?"

"No, of course it isn't, Alice. You _know _that. But we've got to do _something_ to help Rosalie. We can't just let her die." He pulled me into a tight embrace and, despite my better judgment, I didn't put up a fight. I knew Jasper's intentions were in the right place. He was only thinking of protecting Rose, but, as selfish as it sounded, I wanted him—no, needed him—to protect _me _instead.

"So it's decided then. I'm going to Italy. By myself," Edward stated.

_Idiot! _my mind instantly screamed. I pushed away from Jasper and leapt at my brother once again, my momentary calm fizzling to non-existence. "You really are a stubborn fool. Look in that bed, Edward," I said, pointing at Bella. The beautiful, still form of his only love easily captured his attention. "Look at her. That is the girl that I _know _that you love more than anything else on this earth. That is the girl that you nearly destroyed a few weeks ago when you left her, despite your noble your intentions. That is the girl who gave you _everything_, including a _child_, the girl who, by your own choice, is now going to be joining our family for an eternity. But do you want to know what else that girl is, Edward? She is my best friend, my _sister_. She is someone that _I_ love, and I won't stand by and allow you to hurt her again. She deserves better than that. And I can assure you, if you do leave and she wakes up blessed with no recollection as to who you are, I certainly will not be the one to remind her of the man who broke her heart _twice_, no matter how much I may love you. I'm sure there are plenty of other willing suitors that would be happy to—"

"Stop it, Alice," Edward fumed, my words obviously hitting a nerve. I hadn't wanted to hurt him, but he didn't seem to be affected by anything that wasn't cutthroat. I felt guilty as I saw the tortured expression in his eyes and I wondered what thoughts the wheels of his mind were churning up. I allowed myself to hope that my words had gotten through to him, but, after a moment, I could see in the set of his jaw that he had somehow managed to renew his decision.

So I adopted a new, crueler tactic. "What if you do leave, Edward, and everything doesn't go according to your carefully made plans? What if Rose still dies? What if _you _die? Are you really ready to say goodbye to her, to your _daughter?_ God, Edward, your daughter! What about her? She's only just begun to live! And she adores you. What do you think it would do to her if you never came home? If you forced her to grow up without a father? No matter how much we all loved and cared for her, she would always feel abandoned. Is that the future you want for your child, Edward?"

He looked at me, a hint of defeat in his sagging shoulders. "No, Alice, but—"

"There are no 'buts', Edward, not this time," I interrupted him. "You either want that harsh future for your girls or you don't. You already thought you lost them once, and you know how that made you feel. That is exactly how they, how all of us, will feel if we lose you. You were lucky enough to get them back in your life when you thought they were forever lost, but if you make the choice to leave them now, there are no guarantees that you will be so lucky again." I took a deep breath and finished my declaration. "Ultimately, it is your choice, Edward. I can only hope that this time you make the right decision."

He stared at Bella for a long time, and then turned to me and spoke, the anger in his tone surprising me. "So that's it, then. We all just sit here and wait for them to kill Rose and come after us? How is that future any better?" He ran his hands through his tousled hair in frustration and returned his gaze to Bella. He gently held her hand in one of his and traced delicate a path from her palm to her elbow and back again with his own deft fingertips as he whispered almost inaudibly, "Better me than everyone."

If I hadn't been so heartbroken by just the sight of him, I would have thrown my hands in the air and grunted in frustration. I didn't know any other ways to convince him. I found myself trying to think of something, anything else to say when Carlisle broke his silence and asserted his authority over our family. "No, we are not just going to sit here and do nothing. Edward, if you feel as though it is your responsibility to try to fix things with the Volturi, then so be it. But I will be going with you. I will help you reason with my old friends." Edward looked as if he were about to disagree, but Carlisle held up his hand to stop him and continued, "No arguments. You either go with me, or no one goes. That is final." We may all have lived enough years to be classified as adults at least three times over, but Carlisle was still the head of our family and, if he chose to utilize it, he had the power of the last word just like any other father figure. Edward seemed to realize this as his mouth snapped shut and after another moment's hesitation, he nodded once to indicate his agreement with our father's terms.

"As for the rest of you," Carlisle said, "I think it would be best if we transported Bella back to our home in Forks. It is secluded enough that the residents will not have to know of our return and yet familiar enough that it may help invoke Bella's memories in the transitional stages of her change. I think it will also soothe her until Edward's return." He looked into each of our faces and then said, "Agreed?"

As much as I wanted to hold my position and say no, after careful consideration this did seem like a better solution to our problems. Perhaps if Carlisle _could _manage to rekindle some of his camaraderie with the Volturi, we might just have a chance to come out of this war unscathed after all. This solution was in no way _good_, but it was _plausible._ I nodded my head, as did the three other vampires in question, and we all bustled about the room to prepare for the trip home.


	23. KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART

**Last time, we heard from Bella and got some insight into the beginnings of her change, then we heard from Edward and all of his inner turmoil which eventually led him to make yet another stupid self-sacrificing decision in hopes of saving Rosalie, which caused Alice to have a slight conniption, which led to Carlisle taking charge and deciding that he and Edward would travel to Volterra together and the rest of the family would return to Forks, a familiar place that might help Bella retain her human memories. This is what happens next…**

**23 ~ Keep Me In Your Heart**

"**If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less  
Keep me in your heart for awhile  
When you get up in the morning and you see that crazy sun  
Keep me in your heart for awhile…  
Sometimes when you're doing simple things  
around the house  
Maybe you'll think of me and smile  
You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on  
your blouse  
Keep me in your heart for awhile  
Hold me in your thoughts, take me to your dreams  
Touch me as I fall into view  
When the winter comes keep the fires lit  
And I will be right next to you…  
Keep me in your heart for awhile"**

_**Keep Me In Your Heart **_**by Warren Zevon**

**Saturday, October 8 to Sunday, October 9**

_**Kate's POV**_

I walked through the forest at first, unable to bring my body up to speed as I cried without tears. Initially, I had travelled in the direction of my home, but I quickly realized that _home _would never again be a comforting place. Instead of finding solace in the familiarity of our residence, I was filled with apprehension by the very idea of returning there. If I were to walk across the threshold into the house that I had shared with my sisters and brothers, every sight that met my eyes would stir the memories I had created within the confines of its walls and every memory would be a harsh reminder of the _lie _that we had all been living. Our illusion of a blissful coven of siblings was merely that—an illusion. We were no more than skilled actors in a play, and yesterday had been our swan song. We no longer had the stage and its theatrics to aid in our performance; we were our true selves again, and the truth was difficult to bear.

Tanya and I had spent nearly a century in each others' company, sharing both triumphs and struggles and forming bonds that seemed to run as deep as the connection I had once shared with my human sister. And then, today, I learned how very little I truly knew of my beloved immortal sibling. She may as well have been a stranger. And while I knew that, logically, I should not allow Tanya's misdeeds to stain my relationships with the rest of my family, it was difficult not to be weary of them. Tanya was the bad apple of us all, and her actions had truly ruined the lot of us.

She had carelessly betrayed me, betrayed Sasha's memory and expectations, betrayed our entire family. My caring sister—such a vicious lie, it was—had murdered one of our friends. _That_ was the cruel and inescapable reality of life, a reality that caused me to doubt every minute detail of my existence, every relationship, every memory, every conversation. It caused me to repeatedly analyze each interaction I could recall between myself and my doomed sister. I searched for any point where I should have realized the dangerous path upon which our lives were headed, any moment where I might have been able to stop her from making such a grave mistake. Any instance where I could have saved Emmett's life, protected Rosalie's heart, preserved our family. But there was nothing, not even the slightest insinuation, because I had been blinded by my faith in the goodness of our family, in our unwavering moral compass when it came to the rights and wrongs of _any_ death, be it human or vampire. That faith had concealed the evil lurking just around the corner, and when Tanya had played the part of the loving sister, I had all-too-eagerly believed the lie.

I felt an inconceivable magnitude of guilt. Tanya may have lit the match, so to speak, that ended Emmett's life, but my ignorance of her tarnished integrity, my carelessness of observation had proved to be the accelerants that helped to expand the flames until they consumed not only his life, but also, inevitably, my sister's own. I feared that it was far too late to ask forgiveness from the Cullens for what had been done, but I desperately needed to seek it anyway. So I turned away from the falsities of my _home_ and forced my legs to lead me in the direction of the hospital. Somehow, I needed to make Carlisle and his family understand how profoundly I would forever share their grief.

A short while later, as I walked across the parking lot to the newly remodeled wing of the hospital, my mind laden with concern over which words would adequately convey my sincere sympathy, I heard my name being called by the _other _reasons I had chosen to avoid the place I had once called home: Irina, Carmen and Eleazar. Irina had chosen to return to Denali after Bella's attack in order to meet our travelling siblings, who had insisted upon returning home when they had learned of Carlisle's impromptu visit. Irina had been charged with bringing the couple up to speed on the dangerous turn of events in our lives, and, though I was sure she had aptly informed them of the series of unfortunate events that had befallen Edward and his mate, there was certain critical information that Irina had been lacking.

I had hoped that Carmen and Eleazar's flight would be arriving later tonight, giving me at least a few more hours to come to terms with Tanya's behavior and determine how best to soften the blow of her deceit for the rest of my family. I was not yet prepared to be the informant of such bad tidings, but it appeared as though the powers that be felt that I had better get prepared—and quickly—because my sisters and brother were fast approaching me. I greeted them with a tight smile, but could only stand to meet their questioning eyes for a few seconds before my gaze fell to the ground and the words that I knew needed to be said were strangled in my throat.

Irina was the first to break the silence with her rapid-fire questions. "What's the matter, Kate? Did something else happen? How is Edward's mate? His child?" Her curiosity involving Bella's condition was not surprising; while she felt little in the way of affection toward Edward's human companion, she _was_ intrigued by the idea of a half-vampire child and her concern for its welfare, as well as the happiness of the Cullens in general, was genuine.

Unfortunately, as I had not yet entered the hospital, the news I had to offer had nothing to do with the injured human girl. "I'm not sure how they are. This is the first I've been here," I replied sullenly, my mind abuzz with trepidation that perhaps the blows of grief were not yet over for the Cullen family, or my own. It was beyond my psychological faculties to deal with any further deaths at the moment; I prayed with all of my might that both mother and child had survived. Before I could dwell upon the disaster that may or may not lie beyond the double doors in front of us, though, my thoughts switched back to Tanya, and I found myself still struggling to form suitable words to tell our sister's sad tale.

No one spoke for a few seconds, allowing me to wallow in my thoughts, but then my time for thinking ended when Eleazar spoke up. "Where's Tanya? Irina told us you two were hunting down that despicable creature that attacked Edward's mate. I hope you managed to take care of her."

My brow furrowed as I thought of Victoria and what had transpired when Tanya _had_ found her. It would be so much easier on my heart to place the brunt of the blame on Victoria, to claim that she had manipulated my sister into acting so callously, to retain some shred of Tanya's decency. But I could not lie to my siblings, not now, not when I had seen the extent of damage that dishonesty could bring upon us. So I took a deep breath and told them the cold, hard truth. "Tanya and I were hunting Victoria, but we split up to cover more ground. Jasper and Emmett did the same. I didn't find anything and on my way back, I met up with Rosalie. Apparently both Emmett and Tanya found Victoria. But—"

"So she's as good as dust. Thank heavens," Carmen interjected, and I took another deep breath to calm the anger that was rising within me as I thought of just how inaccurate my sister's assumption had been.

"No, actually," I continued. "Victoria is still alive and well. As is Tanya. Emmett was not so lucky. That was why I ran into Rosalie. Emmett…he…he died. And Rose is out on a mission to make his killers pay for what they did."

The pluralization of my statement was not lost on Eleazar's trained ears. "What do you mean _killers_? Who was helping Victoria?" I was comforted by the fact that none of my siblings even considered the truth as an option; it took a fraction of my guilt away that I was not the only one that Tanya had deluded.

"Tanya was. Apparently she felt that she and Victoria shared a common enemy and the two joined forces and killed Emmett when he happened upon them at an inopportune time." I noted their shocked and disbelieving expressions and continued, "I didn't want to believe it at first, but when I finally managed to get Tanya to answer her phone and she didn't deny the accusations, I knew that what Alice had seen was true." I watched as this information sank into their minds, and then they all started to speak at once.

"Poor Rosalie," Irina said, her expression grim.

"I can't even imagine—" Carmen thought aloud as she hugged Eleazar tightly.

"How could she?" my brother asked, and I could do nothing more than shrug my shoulders in reply to the question I had not stopped asking myself since I had learned of the truth.

"I was on my way inside to offer my condolences and check on Bella and the baby. I think it would mean a lot more to Carlisle and his family if all of you showed your support and joined me. I will always love Tanya, but I cannot remain loyal to her after what she has done." I moved toward the door, eager for a distraction, and I was grateful when all three of my siblings followed me inside.

I followed the long hallway and was astonished at the sights and sounds that greeted me when I encountered Conner and the Cullens in the secluded hospital room. I wasn't sure which was more shocking: the child that Edward held protectively against his chest, the rapidly beating heartbeat resounding throughout the room that was evidence of a changing life, or the overall flurry of activity occurring within the room.

My thankfulness that Bella and the baby seemed to be doing well boosted my courage enough for me to speak to Carlisle. I placed my hand on his shoulder, he turned to me and I said, "I heard what happened. I can't even begin to tell you all how sorry I am for what Tanya—"

Carlisle interrupted me and spoke hurriedly, "There is no need for your apologies, Kate." He looked around to the rest of my family. "We do not hold any of you responsible for what has happened; you all, I am sure, are experiencing your own feelings of loss right now and there is no need to compound those emotions with unnecessary guilt. What has happened cannot be undone and, in time, I am hoping that both of our families will be able to heal. But for right now, we are returning to Forks. It seems that Victoria is not the only threat to my family at present."

I inwardly cringed as I thought about the other dangers that Carlisle and his coven could possibly be facing, and, without the necessity of thought, I said, "I'm coming with you."

Carlisle sighed and said, "We cannot possibly ask you to involve yourself in this conflict. We are facing a far greater adversary now than just one irate vampire. There is no need for more of our lives to be at risk."

I was about to reply when my siblings' gazes locked for a moment and then Eleazar spoke up, cutting off my intended response. "You are right, Carlisle. You do not _need_ to ask us because we will _all_ go with you willingly. You and your coven are as much a family to us as our own, and we protect our family." Eleazar's gaze floated to the child cradled in Edward's arms and he finished, "Especially now that we have such a unique and gifted miracle to fight for." I gazed in awe at the small girl, astounded that Eleazar had detected that the half-human child possessed a gift. I wondered if her talent was in any way similar to her father's as Carlisle simply pursed his lips and nodded his head in agreement to my brother's declaration.

No more than twenty minutes later, I was seated next to Conner as we raced toward the airport. I had been hastily informed of the dangers we all faced and, though I was scared beyond reason, I was also determined to face the Volturi with every ounce of fight I had within me. It was the least I could do to rightfully earn the Cullen's forgiveness.

_**Edward's POV**_

I had never in all my years been more aware of the time. Though the inanimate object was in no way culpable for my torment, I despised the clock for each second it allowed to tick past, abhorred its hands for slowly taking away the minutes I had left to share with the two loves of my life. I tried to center my attention on Bella as I rocked Emmalie and she drifted off to sleep in my arms, but even as my eyes drank in the sight of her, even as my fingertips traced the outline of her face, her shoulder, her hands, even as my voice hummed her lullaby in an effort to comfort both of us, the cruel countdown was there, ticking away in the back of my head like a destructive bomb on the verge of explosion.

As our time together lessened, it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain my assurance that I should go to Italy. No matter what, I knew that I would go, but as I sat there, looking at my girls, I couldn't even begin to find the words to tell them goodbye. They deserved so much more than my feeble attempts at valediction would provide. Bella should have a faithful companion, a lover and my sweet Emmalie needed a father. They did _not_ deserve to be betrayed, abandoned, or neglected. But I did not have the luxury of contemplating all of the things that I could not give them or procrastinating with my goodbyes, so I stood, gently placed Emmalie in the tiny bed that had been wheeled into the hospital room, adjusting her fuzzy pink blanket around her tiny frame as I brushed my lips across her coppery curls, and then returned to my position at Bella's side.

I just stared at her for a few more moments, running my fingers through her hair and rubbing my thumb against the softness of her cheek before I entwined my fingers in hers, leaned in and started talking to her, praying that somehow, through the pain, she would hear me. "Bella, love, I have some things that I need to tell you. I wish that I could have waited until you were awake, until I could look into your eyes, and I could speak to you properly. I wish that you could help me figure out what the hell I am doing because it seems like, without you, all of the decisions I have made have been wrong." I raked my free hand through my hair and searched my mind for a way to continue. But my thoughts were defective, utterly useless in my devastation, so I stopped looking for words that originated in my head and, instead, allowed my heart to open up and guide my voice. "Since the day I met you, you have been the voice of my heart, my conscience, and the night that I walked away from you, the night that I lied and told you that I didn't want you, I lost those pieces of myself." Memories of that night overwhelmed me, her pain, her grief so obvious in hindsight. I wondered how things might have been different, if I had seen then how my leaving would destroy her, if I had known then that the only way for us to survive was to stick together. The ticking of the clock became louder, reminding me that I didn't have the time to waste on what-might-have-beens.

So I continued telling her the truth. "I thought I could survive without you, that knowing you were safe and away from the dangers of my world, that remembering the moments we had shared and reliving our happy memories in my mind would be enough. But they weren't, Bella. Because loving you had made me forget how to exist without my heart and soul, and, without you by my side, I no longer had them. Because I had given them up to you unconditionally and irrevocably on the night I fell in love with you. I was a fool and a coward when I left you, love, and I will regret my rash decisions on that night for the remainder of my existence.

The weeks between then and now were the most difficult I have ever had to endure. I hated myself for hurting you and I nearly lost my mind when I thought you were gone forever. When I found out that you were alive, I was overjoyed, and I vowed never to repeat my past mistakes. I planned to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, loving you, doting on you and our child and doing everything in my power to make you happy." I huffed, disgusted with myself as I said, "Yet here I am, telling you that I am leaving, once again breaking a promise that I made to you. But this feels like the choice that I was meant to make, Bella, like it is a decision that, in time, you might come to understand.

Because once, not long ago, you were right here, standing in my position of turmoil and distress." I pictured her in the hotel room in Phoenix as she listened to James' threats and lies, and the anger that I had felt on that day rushed through me again. I should have been there to protect her, but, as was my despicable habit, I had failed her. "You were in danger, and you were scared and then, suddenly, you were faced with only two paths upon which your life could travel. You could choose to live, clinging to the love we shared like a lifeline and damning any and all consequences, or you could choose to be selfless, to save your mother, your _family_, even if it meant sacrificing your own life. You chose to risk yourself, and while, at the time, I was upset and angry that you would be so careless, that you would disregard the impact that your choices would have on me, I now understand how and _why_ you did it. I envy your bravery, love, because I know it was not an easy decision to make."

The anger dissipated as my heart regained its control over my words, and they seemed to flow effortlessly from my lips. It was as if I were no longer just speaking into her ear; instead, my heart, my very soul was connecting with hers. "I am hoping that you will hear me now and that someday soon, you will understand why I had to break my promise to never leave you. Our time together now may be running out, but there are certain truths about us that I need you to believe, no matter how long we may be apart. Please, love, don't ever doubt my feelings for you. Everything good that I have ever had within me was meant for you, was _because_ of you, even before we met. I was created as one half of something wonderful, and it wasn't until I found you that I finally became whole, that I finally experienced happiness. There is not a doubt in my mind that my purpose on this earth was to love you, no matter how greatly I sometimes manage to mess it all up.

And the greatest things that I have ever received have been gifts from you. Your love in return for mine, your commitment and your ability to look past all of my faults and find the real _me—_they were all more than I ever could have hoped for. _You _were the strength that kept the monster away, not me, and _you _restored my humanity, providing me with the courage to believe in myself. And, beyond anything I ever deserved, you gave me the most beautiful gift of all: our daughter.

Bella, she is _perfect_ in every way. I wish I could be here when you meet her for the first time, when you see what a wondrous little girl we created together, but I know that I will not. I wish that I could promise to be here with you to help you raise her, to watch her grow and experience this world, but I will no longer make promises to you unless I know they will remain unbroken.

You deserve my complete honesty, so here are the vows that I _can _make to you. As long as I perceive to live, I will live for you. As long as I live to love, I will love you. And as long as I walk upon this earth, I will fight with everything I have to find my way back to you." I stood then, bracing myself against the bed as I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. I allowed my mouth to linger there for a few seconds before the pain of the knowledge that this kiss might be our last forced me to suck in a trembling breath.

I glanced to Emmalie's still sleeping form, and then gently moved Bella's body toward the edge of the bed, careful to jostle her as little as possible. Then I crawled into the bed next to her and rested my ear above her heart, listening to the rapid beats and allowing them to drown out the wretched sound of the clock, allowing them to lull me into a state that bordered on numbness. Bella, even in her state of unconsciousness, had once again given me a gift that I so desperately needed: a tentative feeling of _peace_.

I laid there with my eyes closed, listening, feeling, for what felt like hours, though it may have only been minutes. Then I lifted my head and placed feather light kisses upon her face, her neck, her arms, repeating the words "I love you" each time my lips touched her skin. I thought that, perhaps, if I repeated the words enough, even if her pain was blocking them out, somehow, she would still _know_.

My peace was short-lived, however, because what felt like mere seconds after it had begun, I heard a faint rustling sound just before Emmalie's tired voice sounded in my head. _Daddy? _I quickly left Bella's bed and walked toward my daughter, plastering a smile on my face as I lifted her into my arms. She was not fooled by my mask, though, her thoughts continuing with _What's wrong?_ She had asked me a question of simplicity in her eyes, but I could not bring myself to answer it just yet. I had somehow managed to say my farewell to Bella, and, while it would never be enough, I was satisfied that I had said every word that I needed her to hear.

With Emmalie, everything was different. She was still so full of innocence, ignorance of the evils that existed in this world. She would be devastated when I told her I was leaving her and thoughts of our impending conversation filled me with trepidation. As her father, I had the innate need to protect her from feelings of pain, but I was at a loss for ways to protect her when _I _was the person that would cause them.

_**Carlisle's POV**_

_This is all going to work out_ I continuously repeated in my mind, an affirmation to myself as well as to Edward, who was seated in the back of the ambulance next to the stretcher where Bella lay silent and unmoving. "Borrowing" the emergency vehicle was risky—at any moment, its absence could be discovered—but it was necessary in order to keep up appearances for the crew of the Airlift Northwest Learjet that Conner had managed to charter for the trip back to Forks. We could not very well transport Bella on a standard commercial flight when she was seemingly unconscious, injured and, at any moment, could erupt with screams of pain. We had considered driving her to Forks, though none of us were pleased with the idea of Bella transitioning for hours in a seated position because we had unanimously decided, through recollections of our own experiences, that maintaining a flat, stretched posture, while in no way alleviating the burning pain, prevented extra tension caused by cramped muscles from making the fire even more insufferable. Then Conner had spoken with the medical flight service that operated out of Juneau. A few swift words and a hefty sum of money later, it was promised that the jet would be fueled and waiting at the Fairbanks International Airport within two hours. If nothing else, Edward and I could rest assured that the majority of our family would be home and safe in Forks before the day's end.

Once all of the necessary arrangements had been made and discussed, we had left the hospital and headed for FIA, none of us wanting to contemplate whatever hardships may lay ahead of us, and all of us dreading the inevitable goodbyes that would accompany our separations at the airport. Edward and I, in an effort to get to Volterra as quickly as possible, would be catching an indirect flight to Milan, and from there we would make our way to Volterra by train and car, pray God we would make it to the city in time to save Rosalie. Esme and Alice would be posing as nurses while Conner and Jasper, acting as her physicians, would accompany Bella and Emmalie on the medical flight to Forks. The limited space on the Learjet mandated that Kate, Irina, Eleazar and Carmen catch an alternate flight to Seattle before they made their way north to our home. I still was not pleased that they were putting themselves in danger in order to protect my family, but I had to admit that in a reversed situation, I would likely have done the same. We were all going our separate ways, but I dared to hope that, in the end, we would _all_ end up at the same place, safe and happy and _together_.

My eyes flitted to the rearview mirror as I struggled to keep my thoughts optimistic, and the sight that befell my gaze tore at my heart. Edward was hugging his daughter, whispering in her ear and trying to make her understand why he was leaving. He had spent nearly every second with Bella and Emmalie since he had made his decision to leave and had been trying for nearly an hour to explain the situation to his child and assuage her fears. But Emmalie was young, already daddy's little girl in every way, and every bit as stubborn as her parents when it came to getting what she wanted.

In between glances at the road ahead, I noticed that Edward would begin to speak only to be interrupted by Emmalie vehemently shaking her head and touching his cheek to "speak" with him in her own way. It was obvious that the thought of leaving her, and her mother, was quickly destroying him, especially when Emmalie started crying and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, but Edward's need to keep his family safe was enough to steel his resolve to travel to Italy. I had never felt more akin to Edward than I did in the moments that I saw him in his role as a father, torn between his desire to make his child happy and his responsibility to protect her.

I had never been blessed with having a child of my own flesh and blood, but as I watched the young man that I had called my son for almost ninety years, I realized that I was his father in every aspect save for genetics. I shared in his joys and his pain; I took pride in his accomplishments and felt guilt for his failures. And I loved him enough to risk everything for his happiness and survival, including my own life, which was precisely what I might be jeopardizing by breaking my longstanding oath to never again set foot within the walls of Volterra.

It wasn't that I had been formally exiled from the city; in fact, I had been entreated on numerous occasions to visit the place that I had once called home. Looking back on my time spent in Italy, though, I realized that I had never really felt _at home_ there. I knew that was due, in part, to the rift that existed between myself and every other vampire that resided in Volterra because I was the bizarre creature that fed on animals instead of our intended prey, the _humanist _vampire that, as a result of my diet, was misunderstood and ridiculed by the rest of my kind, including the three brothers.

I supposed that, in the beginning, Aro, Caius and Marcus had accepted me, strange feeding habits and all, because we were similar in many other intellectual aspects and they assumed, like many others, that eventually I would grow tired of the lowly animal blood I consumed and would succumb to my instincts. And I, well, I chose to hope that one day they, as the keepers of justice among our people, would come to understand the motivations _behind _my actions and, perhaps, learn to join me and fight _their _instincts.

I didn't realize until many, many years later that attributing the division that existed between me and my fellow vampires in Volterra to something as specific as my food choices was a grave error. The truth was that I was different from them on a more basic level: I was ruled by my morals and integrity, equating myself to humans in as many respects as could be managed, and they were ruled by selfishness, greed and a sense of superiority above all other life forms.

Once I came to this realization, I had only two options. The first was to overlook our differences, remain in Italy, and allow who I was to be overshadowed by who they wanted me to be. The second was to leave in hopes that one day I might find another creature like me, someone who valued life and rightness and _goodness_, someone who I could truly share myself with. I could not stomach the idea of becoming a _monster_ like the rest of the Volturi seemed to be, so my decision to leave was simple and immediate. The choice was much easier to make than it was to execute, however.

Aro, Caius and Marcus were not pleased by my desire to leave Volterra, and they tried relentlessly to convince me to stay. First, they offered me gifts and visions of what they considered a bright and powerful future—the four of us ruling the vampire world—not realizing that I had never shared their goals of domination. When their promises did not sway my decision, they turned to their secondary tactic: intimidation. They assumed that invoking fear in a defector by threatening to destroy something, or someone, of value to him, would allow them to control him. Sometimes, they would even go so far as to act on their threats, claiming their deeds were a necessary evil for the preservation of righteousness and order. No one was spared from this vicious pattern of manipulation, not even one of their own.

At least, such was the hushed rumor that passed along the outskirts of Volterra. Many years before I had even met the brothers, it was said that Marcus had wanted to leave Italy with his mate, Didyme. Aro had offered his blessing for their departure, but days before they were to leave, Didyme was killed and Marcus, numbed by grief over the loss of his love, was convinced to remain loyal to the Volturi and their quest for power. The circumstances surrounding Didyme's death were mysterious, though, and it was whispered that Aro was somehow involved. The allegations seemed extreme considering the fact that Didyme was Aro's own sister, but I would not find it surprising if his hunger for supremacy and his obsession with gifted vampires, which included Marcus, had overpowered his devotion to his family.

I was fortunate at the time that I sought to leave them, though, because I did not conform to their typical expectations and was, therefore, unaffected by their standard course of action. I had no ties, no connections, no relationships that they could sever. I was alone and unafraid, willing to sacrifice the only thing I had to lose—my life—if it meant doing what I knew was right. For reasons that I still cannot comprehend, they refrained from killing me and, finally, allowed me to leave.

The day that I bade them farewell, they wore carefully-fixed masks of smiling faces, but I was no longer deceived by their trickery. Behind their careful facades, Caius and Aro were angry, and Marcus, as usual, followed the leads of his two brothers with indifference. I knew that, over time, their anger would beget hatred and resentment that would far overpower any feelings of friendship that had existed among us and, because of this, I felt it was in my best interests to walk away from Volterra and never look back. Until today, I had done so successfully.

When I had made my promise to never return to Italy, I couldn't imagine any scenario that would cause me to relinquish it. But I was a different man back then, completely ignorant of the world and how much a complicated yet beautiful emotion such as love could alter one's perception of it. Over the years, I had broadened my horizons, been changed and fulfilled by my wife and my children, by my career and my devotion to helping the very people that my instincts had intended me to harm. I had found the love and the purpose that I had sought and, in so doing, I had also discovered that I had more to lose than I could ever bear to consider.

For a while, I was able to live blissfully, peaceably with my family, and my fears of losing any of them lay dormant in the recesses of my mind. Then, suddenly, the blows had come one after the other, first with Bella's near-deaths and then the betrayal of a long-time friend that had resulted in us losing Emmett. These occurrences were merely a taste of the devastation that could befall my family, but that taste was enough for me to realize that it was time for me to fully accept the responsibilities of the man that I had become. I was a father now, a protector, and I would be damned if I were to lose another child without a fight. I was no longer as alone and fearless as the man that had made the vow to stay away from Volterra, but I _was _still willing to meet my end if that was the necessary sacrifice to do the right thing and save my children, my entire family.

After an all-too-short ten minute drive, we had reached the airport and I managed to say my goodbyes to everyone except for Esme. When I came to stand in front of her, I struggled to find words that could express everything that she meant to me. Just as I was about to speak, she closed the distance between us and kissed me, and, for a moment, I was lost in my love for her. There was no Volturi, no danger, no separation, no death. With her, there was only love, and, just as it had always been, it was beautiful. When we broke apart, I again tried to speak, but she held her fingertip to my lips and whispered, "Don't, please. I don't think I can handle hearing you say goodbye to me. Not ever. So just go now, and know that I love you and I will be waiting for you, and our babies, to come back to me." She kissed me again before lingering near my ear, repeating, "Please, come back to me." Then she turned away from me and her shoulders quivered from her tearless crying as she boarded the jet and was gone from my view.

Edward and I stood outside, watching as the plane that carried our hearts prepared for takeoff and then headed toward the runway. I tried to be strong, pushing my own pain aside when Edward's grief became almost tangible. He broke down and sobbed, his face in his palms as the jet lifted into the air and became nothing more than a tiny speck in the distance, and I hugged him to me, attempting to comfort him with hopeful thoughts even though we both knew that, realistically, today may have been the last time we would ever again see our family. Eventually, he quieted down and we were able to make our way to the international terminals without invoking any undue attention from the oblivious passersby. My heart and mind were heavy as we waited, and I found myself praying that I would be able to do as my wife had asked and return to her, unscathed, with both my son and daughter in tow.

_**Emmalie's POV**_

Colors. I open my eyes and they are there, bright and moving all around me. I blink and the colors make swirls and shapes. I know them and I feel safe. But _different. _Why do I feel different? I don't like it. It's hot like this. Like red and fire because the cold is gone, _Daddy_ is gone. I am scared without him. Did he leave me? I hear his voice. He says "I love you" but I can't see him. The soft pink is in my eyes and I move it away. I _need_ to see him. I sit up and I see his face. But I am still scared. I don't know why. My heart beats fast. My chest hurts. I want it to stop. He needs to make it stop.

_Daddy? _my mind says, and he is there. He smiles but it's wrong. His lips move, but his eyes stay the same. His smile is a lie. It is cold, like his touch, not warm like the sun, not like it was. Now the cold is too much. I shiver. Daddies aren't supposed to lie. _What's wrong_? I ask. I want the truth. Daddy is silent. He doesn't talk to me like before. He doesn't laugh and sparkle and kiss my hand. He stays quiet. I _hate_ the quiet.

It started when the spiky-haired lady came. Aunt Alice he called her. Daddy was good before then. He was perfect and he loved me and I was happy before he made me go away with Uncle Conner. But I came back and he was mad. He didn't look at me. He didn't hold me. Was it my fault? Did I do something wrong? I don't understand. I want to fix it. I want my old Daddy back. _Daddy please _I say, and I touch his face to show him how it was. Maybe he just forgot. That would be okay.

"Emmalie, I have to go away for a little while," Daddy says. Go away? I don't understand, and then, I do. But I don't want to. No! I shake my head and look at his eyes. They are sad. He doesn't want to go. He _can't_ want to go. He promised. He said he and Momma and me are going to be a family when she wakes up. It made him happy, just like me. We can't be a family if he goes away. I don't stop shaking my head until he sighs.

"Emmie, I know it is hard for you to understand, but I have to. There is a woman that I want you to meet, you're Aunt Rosalie. She loves you, but, right now, she is in trouble, and Grandpa and I need to help her." I don't care about this woman. I don't know her. Why does she need _my _daddy? She can't need him more than me. More than Momma. Rosalie is not his family. _We _are his family. He should be with us.

_You can't leave! _I shout. He talks but I close my ears. I use my eyes now, because they don't lie. Daddy's lips are tight. He will not change his mind. I start to cry. He wipes my tears. More fall. His eyes are scared now, like mine. This is wrong. I heard his voice through Momma's tummy. He said he loves me and will be with me and protect me. Always. Momma said it too. But Momma is sleeping and now Daddy wants to leave and I am all alone. What did I do wrong?

Grandpa comes in the room and says it is time to leave. We are going home Daddy says. I don't know home. Home to me was Momma and Daddy. I have no home. I cling to Daddy's neck. He holds me and then we are moving. Maybe if I don't let go, he will have to stay.

"Emmie, everything will be alright. Grandma and your aunts and uncles are going to take good care of you until your Momma wakes up." I didn't miss that he didn't say "until I come back". He says he is going but he never says he is coming back.

_How long must you go? _I ask him. He shakes his head. He is silent again. I know what his silence is now. He lies with his mouth through his smiles, but he won't lie with his words. His silence is a harder answer than words. His silence means he doesn't know when he will come back. Maybe he doesn't think he will. My heart races. I can't breathe. My tears come faster and I hold on to Daddy as he hugs me and says goodbye with his silence.

The moving stops. I am still crying. Daddy says "I love you" and makes me let go. Uncle Conner holds me now, but I still look at Daddy. _Why don't you love us enough_ I ask him in my head. He stops looking at Uncle Conner and kisses my hand. Just like he used to.

"I love you more than anything," he whispers, and kisses my cheek. He backs away, and I touch my face. It is still cold. It is still safe, and bright and good. I never stop looking at him. He gets farther away and I reach out. I scream with my mind but he doesn't hear. I struggle. I cry. I open my mouth.

And I speak. My first words. "Daddy, don't go!" I say. The door shuts and he is gone. Everyone looks at me. I don't want them to look at me. I wiggle out of Uncle Conner's arms and snuggle up next to Momma. I close my eyes and there is darkness. Daddy left and took the light away. He was the colors and the sun and the moon. Why did he take everything away? I am hurt and angry and scared and confused. I know only Daddy can fix it, but maybe Momma can make it better.

_**Bella's POV**_

It didn't take me long to figure out what was happening to my body. The pain started at the tips of my toes and fingers as well as the base of my neck, like pins and needles that had been boiled and coated in molten lava before being pressed against my skin. The prickling fire steadily moved toward the center of my body, but stayed toward the surface, as if only my skin was burning away. After the shell of protection had been penetrated by the heat, it began its attack on the inner layers of my body, slowly overtaking each one.

The fire was like a serpent of hell, winding its way through the fibers of my muscles, squeezing out the last of my body's resistance to the change as its fangs repeatedly tore through my tissues, filling each cell with its venomous accelerant before it struck a match against my bones and lit my very soul ablaze.

I wanted to scream, to somehow release the energy that was building in my chest, but my throat constricted and I couldn't make a sound. The pressure was building in my head, pounding against my skull, crackling, beating, echoing. I tried to block it out, but it was too loud, too fast for me to stop. It was too much. This couldn't be right. I couldn't change, I couldn't _live_ if my head exploded, and it was on the precipice of such an event, I was certain. The pressure, the tension continued to rise, and the reds and oranges and yellows blurring together in my vision began to darken. _Please, Edward_ I pleaded in my pulsing mind. _ I don't want to die._ But the darkness continued to grow until the pain receded and there was nothing.

His voice brought me back from the void that my mind had created so that I could escape the pain. It was gentle, like a whisper, soothing my thoughts as my body continued to burn. I could not understand every word he spoke, but I was comforted by the words I could make out. Until I caught a full sentence and learned that he was leaving. The news would have torn me to shreds had my body not already been obliterated by the heat. But I was already feeling the maximum amount of pain that my body and soul could tolerate, so instead of being heartbroken or sad, I got angry.

He had left me once and then he had _promised _that it would never happen again. How dare he leave me now? How dare he leave me alone as a newborn vampire with a newborn daughter to raise without him? He fucking _promised. _As my anger boiled and bubbled, my body did the same. I was now on the surface of the sun while I was in hell, and my anger was like fiery meteors flying and crashing in my head. I tried to force myself to listen to his words, which hadn't stopped as the inferno that I was raged on and lost control.

His words were sweeter now, and he was making me new promises. But how could I believe them? How could I believe any words that left his mouth when all he seemed to do lately was lie to me? I loved him. I wanted to believe in him like I always had, but my fury wouldn't let me. I started to wonder if love was enough. If it was even worth it at all when it only causes pain. It didn't used to be this way. It used to be simple and easy and beautiful. When did it all change?

Suddenly, Edward's words ceased, and I felt a coolness on my lips, like droplets of cold water on a hot stove before they sizzle and evaporate.Then the sensation moved to my chest. I couldn't tell what it was from, but I didn't want it to stop, because, ever so slightly, it calmed the fire. The silence continued and now that his voice was no longer pulling me away from the void, I found myself floating toward it, and, this time, I did not fight it.

The next time that I came into awareness, images were flashing into my mind, a speeding filmstrip of memories that were not mine. Some of the images were of me, but most of them were of Edward and a little girl, some happy and colorful and vibrant, while others were dull and lifeless. I imagined that the child was my daughter, and I felt a pang in my rapidly beating heart that I had yet to meet her. I wondered where these images were coming from, and why I was unable to make them stop. Gradually, they became darker, more abstract. It was difficult to make out the subject of the images, but the emotion of them was clear: fear.

I wanted the images to stop. I searched for the void in my head, becoming frantic as the images grew darker still. The pounding began to build, and I knew I was getting closer. I swam through the liquid fire of my mind, finally locating the dark chasm that could comfort me, the images following closely behind. I leapt into the abyss, and the pictures followed, and then, they disappeared. I still wasn't sure what had caused them, or why they had so abruptly changed to images that both terrified me and filled me with a protective instinct. What I did know was that now they were gone, and, for the moment, I was at peace.

_**Jacob's POV**_

Mundane. There was simply no other word that could be used to describe my existence. I thought that being a werewolf would add a little spice and spontaneity to my life, but so far, all it had done was fill my days with order and exhaustion and rules that I was powerless to break because of some alpha-male-lead-all-others-follow shape shifter protocol. In short, it sucked ass.

It hadn't always been this way. The week that followed my transformation was full of disgusting leeches running amuck in the forest and thrilling chases. We never did catch any of them, but the adventure of the hunt had been enough to fill me with excitement, energy, _purpose_. For the first time in my life, I wasn't just some stupid rez _kid_ that was told "You're too young" or "Soon you'll understand." I finally felt like I belonged, like I was making a difference.

And then days passed without any new sickeningly sweet smells, and the exhilaration began to fizzle away until it reached the point of non-existence. Sam insisted that we all still had a duty to protect our people from the bloodsuckers, and if no new ones were lurking about, then we would just have to keep a close eye out for the old ones, should they decide to return.

Which was precisely why I was patrolling the Cullen's property line, just as I had yesterday, and the day before that, and the _week _before that. And what did I have to show for it? Nothing but bloodshot eyes, a fierce appetite and absolutely _no_ privacy, because sweeps could only safely be done in wolf form, which meant all of my thoughts were free game to any of my brothers that were hanging out as a canine anywhere on this planet. To be quite honest, I was a few hours away from losing my cool and figuring out some way to tell Sam, and his attitude-laden sidekick Paul, the delightful orifice into which they shove their guard schedule. This whole thing was ridiculous. Like the Cullen's were ever going to come back to Forks after what had happened. They weren't that stu—

What the hell was that van, and _that _one, doing driving up the lane to the Cullen house? And stopping at the garage. And opening its doors. And—I sniffed the air. Nasty. Sweet. Definitely vampires. Okay, maybe the Cullens _were _that stupid. Holy shit. I couldn't screw this up. I was the new guy in the brotherhood, and I had to make sure I did everything right so that, maybe, I could earn some damn respect for once.

I watched as they all exited the cars, getting a headcount and attempting to recognize known members of the Cullen family. Unfortunately, the two important ones—Carlisle and Edward—did not seem to be present among the 8 leeches I had counted. I watched as a dark-haired male leaned in to the back of the one van, and when his upper body re-emerged, he was holding a blonde woman in his arms. Her body seemed lifeless, but he was handling her with such care—surprising for a leech—that I was certain she was still alive. I had to admit, my curiosity was peaked and my mind was spinning with questions. I stealthily moved closer to the edge of the forest, and that's when I heard it.

A rapid pounding, like a heartbeat only much faster. There were two distinct versions of the noise, but I couldn't pinpoint their origins from this distance. I could, however, hear their conversations. Most of their words were immaterial to me—like I really cared about their rooming arrangements—but then a familiar name crossed their lips, and my pulse started to race.

The voice that said it belonged to a petite, wild-haired bloodsucker that I was fairly certain went by the name of Alice Cullen. "Conner," she said as she peeked around the van's one passenger door, "Could you let me carry Bella upstairs? Emmalie won't come out of the van unless you carry her." _Bella, Bella, Bella _my mind chanted. Could it be? Was it possible that she was _alive_? I watched as the raven-haired man transferred the limp body of the blonde to Alice's waiting arms, returned to the van, and seconds later was beside the petite woman cradling a copper-haired infant.

The baby threw me for a loop, but I was too focused on the blonde girl to pay much attention to the child. I knew that I should be concerned that a large coven of vampires had just come to town complete with a potentially human child, but I couldn't shift my concentration from the girl that they had called "Bella." I knew it was impossible. It was. Sam had been certain that Bella had committed suicide off of the cliffs by First Beach. But something in my gut told me that the woman that was now being carried into the Cullen's house was none other than Isabella Swan. I needed to get back to the reservation. Now.

I ran as fast as my paws could carry me, and transformed just before I barreled through the front door of my house. "Dad!" I yelled as I stalked through the kitchen.

"In here," I heard him reply from the living room. "I'm watching the game wi—"

"The Cullens came back," I said in a rush, cutting him off. "And I think that Bell—" I rounded the corner and stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes widening and my next words dying in my throat. I glanced out the window, only now noticing the cruiser that had been shielded by my father's truck, before bringing my gaze back to the reddened eyes of Charlie Swan.

I heard his beer can crinkle as he gripped it more tightly before he spoke, his tone barely controlled and slightly slurred. "Please, Jacob, finish what you were going to say. Don't spare any details on my account. The Cullens," he spat the name from his lips, "came back and you think that Bell what?" I didn't respond, and seconds passed as I looked to my father for help. Charlie rose to his feet and tilted his head back to look into my towering face. He nearly screamed as he said, "You think that Bella WHAT, Jacob?"

"Now Charlie, there's no need to yell at my boy there," my dad said calmly. "He was probably just about to say that he thinks Bella's old boyfriend was with them. Right, Jacob?" I nodded my head in agreement, swallowing hard and doing my best at telling an outright lie to the man that was like a second father to me.

Charlie was quiet for a moment, and then he dropped his empty can of Vitamin R and stumbled out to the cruiser.

"I think Bella may be alive," I whispered to my father as I watched Charlie start the ignition, reverse onto the road, and speed away from our house. "Could you tell Sam to transform so I can tell him everything and still make sure that Charlie doesn't do something stupid?"

"Sure thing, Jake," he replied. "And be careful."

I was out the door and back on my paws in seconds, racing through the woods as I kept a close eye on Charlie's speeding cruiser. Chief Swan hadn't been the same since Bella died. He had put in for a leave of absence from the station and had taken up drinking like it was his new, full-time occupation. My dad had been trying to help him get through his grief and pull him out of the hole he was digging for himself and the guilt that weighed on my conscience as I thought about just how much damage my careless words had done to his already deteriorating state of mind was substantial. I hoped that I could somehow reverse it and prevent him from taking matters into his own hands by going after an enemy that he could never defeat. Especially when the ghost that was haunting him may still be alive and in danger inside the Cullen house.


	24. EVIL WITHIN

**Alrighty roo, a lot happened in the last chapter. Edward said his goodbyes to Bella and Emmalie, and neither of them were happy about it. Oh yes, we heard from little Emmalie, and she was none too thrilled that her daddy was leaving her. She doesn't understand, and now she feels all alone. We learned a wee bit about Carlisle's past with the Volturi, and we also learned that Jacob is a werewolf who has been patrolling the Cullen lands in case they returned. [please see end note for important info about Jacob's introduction to this story] Which they do, and he sees Bella and the child he does not know and goes running off to report his findings. Only Charlie just so happened to be at his house when he goes charging in to tell his father about the Cullen's return, and that was not good. This chapter takes place in Italy; we'll get back to Forks next time…**

**24 ~ Evil Within**

"**Can you hear my silent whisper?  
Can you hear my confession?  
Can you feel this rising anger?  
Can you see me I'm burning inside?...  
I will unleash my endless ****pain****  
I will unleash my fire  
Come closer and take my hand!  
Come with me and you will understand…  
There are sinners and saints  
There will be always treasures and waste  
There will be always two ways to go  
At the ****crossroads**** we stand lost and alone  
This feeling is haunting me  
It's pulling me down  
This madness is killing me  
It's tearing my heart out, I'm losing my mind…  
Can you hear my silent whisper?  
Can you hear my confession?  
Can you feel this rising anger?  
Can you see me I'm burning again?  
'Cause evil thoughts running through my soul  
I'll never stop acting my role"**

_**Evil Within **_**by Thunderstone**

**Monday, October 9 to Tuesday, October 10**

_**Victoria's POV**_

As I walked through the darkened stone corridor, I realized that Volterra was the perfect setting to house a growing assembly of vampires, for it held many of the same enduring qualities of our kind. It was hardened and cold and unchanging; every sight that met my eyes seemed identical, albeit much more detailed, to the sights I that had seen when I walked this path as a human destined for the slaughter centuries ago. For some reason, the hallways leading to the great room were the only element of this place that had ever brought me anxiety and I presumed that this, in some way, related to the human memories and emotions that were suppressed somewhere within my mind. As I had walked toward the great room, the _feeding _room, on that first day, I had known of the danger and I had feared it, just as, today, I was filled with concern over entering the Volturi lair after a six month absence.

I didn't fear for my life on this day, though; I knew that Caius would not harm me once I brought him news of the Cullen's treachery. Instead, I feared his dismissal, his disallowance of my desire to return to my position in the guard. He was not known for having a forgiving nature, and, once slighted, he rarely offered a second chance to gain his trust.

My decision to abandon my assignment and seek revenge on Edward was likely viewed as disloyal in Caius' eyes, and, half a year ago, when I was blinded by my devastation and rage, betraying him had been the least of my worries. Now that I had been given ample time to come to terms with James' death, though, and to mourn the loss of the future we had been planning away from Volterra, I realized that falling from Caius' good graces was a very foolish decision. Italy would always be my home; it was the one place that, no matter the hardships I faced, I could return to and find comfort. The idea that in a few hours I might be banished from the walls of Volterra was sickening; losing my home in the wake of losing James would be a crippling blow. I allowed myself to wallow in my concerns for a few moments, but as we drew nearer to our destination, I forced my thoughts to return to the task at hand. I imagined the glorious sounds of the Cullen's screams as they burned for what they had done, and I decided that, as long as I extracted my revenge, I could handle anything else this world threw my way.

As our guide, Felix—a young and overly-cocky member of the guard that I had never liked—opened the ancient door to the great room, I held my head high and took a deep breath, abandoning all of the feelings of worry that had accompanied my travels through the hallway. Caius would expect my confidence in the face of the controversy I had created, and I fully intended to act accordingly. If I was lucky, my sire would be understanding of my actions and allow my return to my place in the guard, a position that I never should have left in the first place.

I was disappointed upon first entering the room when I noticed that the three chairs of the royals were empty, but then footsteps sounded behind me and his voice echoed throughout the vast space. "So, my wayward child has finally found her way back to her home." Caius came to stand in front of me, his expression serious and unreadable as he crossed his arms and continued, "Victoria, dear, you have some explaining to do. I feared you had met your match when you failed to return after your last quest, but then Demetri informed me that you were alive and well and I no longer knew what to think. I _almost_ believed you would never return and yet, here you are." He sat in his chair and scrutinized Tanya, his gaze stopping when she raised her eyes—his own scarlet orbs narrowed at the sight of her golden ones. "And you have brought a _friend_." His distaste for my companion was clear in the sour tone of his voice, in the hatred that dripped off of his tongue as he spat out his final word, but I never worried that such emotions would carry over to me. I had brought Tanya here for one reason, and once she had served her purpose, I hardly cared what became of her. After a few long moments of quiet assessment, Caius finally returned his gaze to me, his lips pursed and silent, a sign that it was my turn to speak.

"Forgive me, Caius," I began as I respectfully bowed in his direction while maintaining an air of confidence and strength. "As I was completing the task you had asked of me, certain events occurred that led to James' death, and I am ashamed to say that I became lost for a time." I hung my head, playing the part of the guilt-ridden child to perfection. After a beat, I again raised my eyes to his and continued, "But my grief has passed, and I have returned after gathering the information you requested. You were right in your intuition that the Cullens were not abiding by the laws of our people. Edward, a young male in Carlisle's coven, has chosen to mate with a human, revealing the secret of our existence to her, and the entire coven has chosen to ignore this breach.

This human-child, with her knowledge of us, is a danger to our way of life, and must be destroyed. I would have done so myself, but she is heavily protected by all of the Cullens and I managed only to slay one member of their coven before my return here. It is my honest opinion that every member of Carlisle's family has knowingly committed an act of treason, and must be punished by death. I have brought Tanya here because she assisted me in a fight against the Cullens, and can both confirm my observations and offer additional information about the details of their betrayal." I noticed the soft tremble of her body, and I shared a look and a nod with Caius that indicated we would discuss the subject of Tanya at a later time.

He sighed and rose to his feet, resting a hand on my shoulder before he spoke. "You have done well, my child. I must discuss this matter with the others, of course, but I am certain that the Cullens will be made to pay for their misdeeds. Please show Tanya to a room and then return to yours. I shall visit to acquire more details momentarily." I nodded my assent, and turned to leave.

I was almost out the door when the echo of his voice once again stopped me in my tracks. "Oh, and Victoria?" He paused and I turned to look at him. "Welcome home," he finished and my heart was instantly lighter. The two words were filled with many messages, but the most important was that I had been forgiven. Caius would not tolerate another betrayal, nor would he ever again grant a request to leave the guard, but that no longer mattered to me. I was exactly where I would always want to be, where I always had and always would belong. There was a bounce in my step and a broad smile on my face as I ushered Tanya into an empty room and walked down the corridor to my bedroom door. Everything was falling nicely into place.

_**Caius' POV**_

"What is it that is of such great importance, brother, that you would demand our company so suddenly?" Aro said with curiosity as he entered the great room, followed closely by his shadow, Renata. There were few places he seemed to go these days without some member of the guard mimicking his every step, as if our home was no longer a safe place of existence. When he noticed that I was the only occupant of the room, he dismissed his bodyguard and glided to his chair as we awaited the arrival of our other brother. The departure of his gifted protector indicated that Aro still invested his trust in me, which soothed my mind as I contemplated our impending discussion.

Seconds later, Marcus entered and sulked over to the remaining seat, his silence evidence of his indifference over my reason for calling this meeting. I wondered, fleetingly, if there was even a point to including him in our decisions anymore; since his wife's passing, he had become a ghost of the vampire he had once been and rarely offered opinions on or objections to our activities. Nonetheless, I supposed it was best to involve him and keep up appearances. The last thing we needed was for people to get the idea that the bonds between us brothers were crumbling. Even if the painful truth was that they were.

Marcus had long been a lost cause, kept around to appease Aro's need to maintain his collection of the gifted without any argument from me because his presence was not a hindrance on my plans. I supposed he was still persuaded to use his gift from time to time, at Aro's insistence, but without our guidance, I was sure he would be lost in his sadness, so, in a way, it seemed we were saving him by keeping him here. My connection to Marcus was neither weak nor strong; it simply _was_.

My relationship with Aro was another matter entirely. For awhile, my brother's affinity for the exceptional of our species had not bothered me. But then I began to notice that the numbers of his personal guard were steadily increasing, and with each new member came greater powers that I was offered no control over. I began to wonder if, perhaps, Aro's quest for power was becoming a bit too _personal_, too _individual_. He seemed to be amassing an army while I sat on the sidelines, with no way of knowing whether or not that army would one day turn on me. True, I had a few loyal protectors, but if it ever came down to a battle between myself and Aro, as things stood now, I knew I would lose.

I recognized that my thoughts teetered on the edge of paranoia, but sometimes it paid to be cautious. After all, my caution had served to allow me to survive for centuries at the top of the vampire hierarchy, and I could not be so daft as to let my guard down now. Especially not when I was so close to realizing a goal I had set forth many years ago: destroying Carlisle Cullen.

I cleared my throat as I mentally prepared my words so that they would have the greatest affect on my brothers. "I have news that I thought you may find interesting. Victoria has returned and brought with her some intriguing information regarding our old friend Carlisle." I noticed Aro's posture straighten and his eyes sparkle when the topic of our meeting was pronounced and I knew that his reaction stemmed from friendly interest over what had become of our lost brother rather than any harbored feelings of resentment. It seemed that time had only served to diminish Aro's anger at Carlisle, while the passing of the years had increased my own hatred of him tenfold.

I knew, after watching Aro's reaction, that I needed to be careful about how I proceeded with this information, so I furrowed my brow and did my best to convey sadness as I continued, "It weighs heavily on my heart to share this ill news, but it seems as if Carlisle has chosen to lead a life of rebellion. Victoria has reported that he and his coven have decided to inform a human of the existence of our kind, and that this human is a threat to our secret. I know it will be difficult, but Carlisle has shown many signs throughout the years that he might one day become a danger. In light of this new information, I feel it is only just that we send members of the guard to carry out the execution of all members of Carlisle's coven and its human pet."

Aro frowned as he studied my expression for a few moments, as if doing so could provide him with more information than my words had given. "And you are certain that this information is accurate?" he asked, still appraising me. He seemed wary of placing trust in my words, though I couldn't be sure whether this was because of a growing mistrust of me in general or because I had shared news that his softened ears had not wished to hear about his old companion.

Not that it would matter much once I offered my next words. "I unquestionably trust Victoria's assessment of Carlisle's actions, but if you require greater reassurance before we act, I would be more than happy to escort you to the rooms of both Victoria and her guest. I'm sure that, after a few minutes, their minds will give you all of the confirmation you desire." He nodded slowly and the three of us rose and exited the great room.

I led my brothers down the corridor as I followed the newcomer's scent to a closed doorway. I knocked lightly, hoping that politeness would increase the girl's willingness to cooperate because I was in no mood for a scuffle. When we entered the dimly lit space, I saw that the tiny child sat upon the windowsill, curled up in herself as if she wished to simply disappear. I was beginning to understand why Victoria's body language had indicated that this girl was not to be trusted. Her head turned to take in the sight of us as we approached her quietly.

"Tanya, dear," I said sweetly, "We are now in need of your assistance. If you would please stand and allow my brother, Aro, to take you hand, we would be most grateful." She stood hesitantly and offered her outstretched palm, which Aro took gently between both of his as he stared into her eyes. They stood, unmoving, for many minutes as Aro explored the memories that were woven within Tanya's mind.

When they finally broke apart, Tanya reached up to her temple and shook her head lightly from side to side, as if to clear it from some unknown invasion. It was a common reaction from those who were unaware of Aro's gift; their minds felt _off_ but not to a degree that they could decipher why or what had just happened to them. "Thank you, child," Aro said with a smile. "Your mind was most _intriguing_." He gleefully turned and exited the room, almost skipping with excitement. I moved to follow him, but not before noticing the look that adorned Tanya's face following his words: her expression was an equal mixture of shock, fear and shame and it was transparently obvious that Tanya had not desired to further betray Carlisle. I hoped that Victoria wouldn't be too disappointed when I informed her that her _guest_ would have to be eliminated.

Seconds later, Aro, Marcus and I were inside Victoria's quarters, and my brother had spared no time in connecting to her and scanning her thoughts. I wondered what he had seen in Tanya's mind that had him in such a pleasant and eager mood all of a sudden. I prayed that, whatever it was, it had not swayed him from deciding to punish Carlisle's coven, because I had not come up with an argument in defense of my position should that be the case. I had assumed that by assessing the two women's minds, he would see that my words were the truth and he would agree to my plan without pause so I was scrambling to come up with a plethora of reasons to carry out Carlisle's execution when Aro's words broke through my thoughts.

"I believe I have seen all that needs to be seen," he said, his smile still broad and puzzling. He turned to Victoria and continued, "My sympathies for the loss of your mate, child, but I am afraid I cannot allow _all_ of your desires for revenge to play out." It was maddening, this display of secretive conversation. I wished, and not for the first time, that Aro's gift projected to the rest of us, so that we could know what he had learned and his words would become less confusing.

I was about to make a request for Aro to elaborate upon his statement when Victoria's chilled and angry voice broke through the silence of the room. "If I may be so bold as to ask, Aro, why are any members of the Cullen family to be spared when they have all broken the sacred law? Is it not our way to extinguish all vampires who have chosen to betray our way of life and threaten our existence?"

Aro seemed nothing less than amused at her outburst and replied, "Yes, such has been our custom over many centuries. However, when a situation presents itself where the benefits of preserving the existence of some rebellious vampires greatly outweighs the benefits of their destruction, then I am inclined to decide that their lives shall be spared, regardless of the crimes committed, so that their unique gifts may be used to serve the purposes of Volterra. As I am sure you—"

"You want them to join the guard?!" Victoria nearly shouted, cutting Aro off, her audacity shocking him so much so that his mouth hung agape with the words he had not been permitted to speak. "They'll never be loyal to you; you have to have seen that. I can't bel—"

"That is quite enough, Victoria," I cut in before her thoughtless remarks could continue and further enrage my motionless brother. I decided to attempt to assuage the growing tension in the room by stepping between my brother and Victoria and calmly stating, "While I do not agree with the method in which Victoria chose to convey her opinions, I have to admit that I agree with her, Aro. It seems unlikely that any member of Carlisle's coven would willingly swear allegiance to us."

I waited patiently for Aro to respond, and after a few moments of him deeply breathing, his smile returned and he calmly spoke as he looked at Victoria. "I shall choose to overlook your rash interruptions, Victoria, because I have seen how profoundly James' death has affected you, but know that I shall not tolerate another outburst." He turned his gaze to me and continued, "Now, while I appreciate your opinions on the Cullens, which, I must admit, were rather unexpected, I refuse to alter my decision." I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up his hand and said, "Please, let me explain before you decide to disagree with me.

I have seen through both Tanya's and Victoria's eyes that every member of the Cullen coven has disregarded our rule to keep our existence a secret from all humans. I will therefore agree that Carlisle as well as his mate Esme and their _children_,Rosalie and Jasper, shall be punished by death. Edward and Alice shall be spared and shall be invited to join the guard. I am well aware that they may not be easily coerced into donning the cloaks of our elite, but I am also aware that, thanks to Chelsea's uncanny ability to persuade, I have never before been denied by any gifted vampire that I have desired to conquer. Edward and Alice _will _join us, and they shall be accepted by _all_." As he said the last sentence, his gaze, once again, touched on Victoria.

"As for the human, she shall also suffer death as soon as we are able to determine what has become of the intriguing child that she and Edward have produced." I was stunned by Aro's revelation that the human girl had physically mated with a vampire, and I had to admit that I was disgusted by the idea of a mixed child. Unfortunately, Aro was curious, and I knew that once he started to obsess over gifted vampires that he had yet to acquire, he would not lose interest until they were in his possession.

My acceptance of Aro's proposal would not please Victoria, nor would it fully please me, but at the moment, it was the best compromise I was going to receive from my brother. I nodded my head in agreement and shifted my gaze to Victoria, encouraging her to remain silent. "This sounds like a fitting decision, Aro. I shall task Demetri with locating Carlisle's coven immediately and we shall proceed from there. In the meantime, what is to become of Tanya?"

Aro opened his mouth to reply, but there was a knock at the door and Gianna entered and interrupted our conversation. "Pardon me for interrupting, but there is a Rosalie Cullen that is demanding she be seen immediately. I tried to tell her that you were unavailable, but she said it was urgent and nearly started a fight with Felix out in the lobby. As it is nearly time for Heidi to be bringing in a new round of tourists, I thought it prudent to handle Ms. Cullen as soon as possible."

"That was most wise, Gianna, thank you," Aro said sweetly before Victoria or I could speak. "Please show Ms. Cullen to the great room immediately." Gianna nodded and quickly exited the room, closing the door behind her. Aro turned to me and said, "I still stand by my decision that Rosalie shall be disposed of, but I would like to view her mind before she is burned. As for Tanya, she is not loyal to us, and must also be eliminated. I will have Alec deliver her for execution as soon as I have met with Rosalie." With that, he turned and exited the room, his departure followed seconds later by Marcus'.

I turned to Victoria, and she was fuming. "I cannot believe this! Edward was responsible for the death of James _and _he told a human of our existence and Aro is just going to let him join the guard as if all of his past deeds can be forgotten?! I don't care if he can read minds, this plan is preposterous." She looked at me, pleadingly. "Please, Caius, tell me that you wish them all to die." I had never seen her look so distraught, and since Victoria had always been a favorite of mine, I hated to see her suffering. The niggling desire lingering within my mind to make Carlisle watch as his entire family was destroyed before he lost his own life was ignited by her anxiety, and became a full-blown plan to act.

I spoke quietly, so as not to be overheard. "Yes, Victoria, I do wish death upon them all. But if we are to go against Aro's wishes, we must do so carefully. Fear not, child, Edward shall pay dearly for the pain he has caused you." She sighed with relief and nodded. We spoke for hours about all possible ways to destroy the unworthy vampires that Aro had given immunity, and once we had our plot mostly finalized, I left the room to check on Aro and our temporary _guests_. Our plan would not be easy, and I needed to gather as much information as I could in order to ensure that it came to fruition because I had come much too far to give up on it now. I hoped that Aro would not be _too_ disappointed when his new gifted hopefuls mysteriously wound up dead. Even if they hadn't been Cullens, I figured that death may have been their fate anyway. My brother certainly did not need any more powerful additions to his already overwhelming collection.

_**Rosalie's POV**_

"If you don't step away from me in two seconds, you arrogant prick, the only sight you're going to be ogling from now on is my fists before they punch you," I yelled at the cloaked vampire that had been left to "watch" me while the little human secretary went to fetch her masters. It was about damn time that she went to get the royals, too, because I was a few minutes shy of strangling her overly pleasant responses right out of her throat. I didn't really care if the Volturi were in the middle of an important conference; they were going to see me and they were going to do so, now. It was faint, but I could smell the scents of Victoria and Tanya in this lobby and there was not a chance in hell that I was leaving here without killing them.

I had to admit, though, that I _almost _preferred Gianna's sunshine personality to that of the smug asshole that stood between me and the door to the royals with his arms crossed, like he was a bouncer trying to keep me from getting up on stage at a concert. This Felix character was taking his job to "watch" me a little too seriously, his eyes continuously roaming over my body as his constant smirks betrayed the disgusting line of his thoughts. I could handle my own around despicable males that were distracted by the way I looked, but this was the first time I realized that I had never really had to. Emmett had always been there to lay claim to what was his, and beat the shit out of anyone who tried to pretend that I was attainable. It was another painful reminder of how things were different now, and another fuel for the fire of rage within me that was burning for vengeance.

Felix didn't budge at my outburst, and I was about to make good on my promise to punch him when the door suddenly swung open and Gianna exited, saying, "Aro will see you now. Felix, please escort Ms. Cullen to the great room." _Finally_, I thought as I walked along a long, dark corridor. The atmosphere sent chills down my spine and I experienced a troublesome feeling somewhere deep within me that nothing good would come of my being here. Carlisle never tiptoed around the fact that this place was dangerous when he had told me about his history many years ago, but I couldn't bring myself to regret my decision to come here as I thought about how satisfying it would be to watch Victoria and Tanya die.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Felix opened a large wooden door and grinned at me as I passed through it. Again, I felt the urge to knock the smile off of his face with my fists, but when I saw the distant figures in the large room, I quickly calmed myself and moved forward. I was surprised by how delicate the man seated before me appeared, though I knew from Carlisle's stories that the Volturi should not be judged by outward appearances. And even if centuries of existence did somehow soften the strength of our kind, the fierceness in the gaze of the childlike girl that stood next to Aro indicated that he was heavily protected.

I opened my mouth to speak, as I had no desire to further delay this conversation, but the royal held up his hand and spoke first. "You needn't share your reason for coming here, Ms. Cullen. I have just learned of the recent events surrounding your coven, and I don't imagine that I am being overly presumptuous when I assume that you are here to seek vengeance against Victoria and Tanya for the death of your mate." My jaw tightened at the mention of their names, but I simply nodded and allowed him to continue. "I cannot promise you that your journey will end quite the way you expected, however, I can promise you that if you offer me your hand, some measure of satisfaction shall be yours."

I knew of his gift, his ability to peruse every thought your mind had ever had with the simple touch of his palm, and I was hesitant to oblige his request. He must have sensed my hesitation, for he stood and walked toward me as he said, "Your uncertainty suggests that you are aware of my gift. I suppose I have my dear friend Carlisle to thank for keeping his _family_ well-informed. But I assure you, I mean you no harm. I merely wish to better understand your motivations before I do or do not agree to permit your desired actions." I still didn't feel comfortable about allowing him full access to my mind; it seemed exponentially more invasive than Edward's gift and I had always detested having my mind read. If allowing Aro to access my thoughts convinced him to point me in the direction of Tanya and Victoria, though, I supposed that, just this once, I could handle becoming an open book to someone.

I held out my hand and, once his skin touched mine, it felt like a haze had covered my brain. I could neither form new thoughts, nor access old memories, and it was difficult to hold on to my bearings of where I was and why I was here. I was unsure how long the fog had clouded over my thoughts and kept them at bay, and when I felt a release of pressure around my palm, the world became increasingly clear. I felt the strong urge to shake my head to dispel the final remnants of confusion from my mind.

When I felt normal again, a few seconds later, I saw that Aro was smiling at me. It was a genuine smile of happiness, and I hadn't the faintest idea what it was doing on his face. When he spoke, though, I no longer cared about the reason for his expression. "My condolences, Rosalie. I have seen how special was the bond between yourself and your Emmett, and I feel that you are owed some measure of justice for his death." He turned his attention away from me and addressed the girl at his side. "Jane, dear, would you please escort our guest to the Colosseo? And please tell Felix in passing to alert the rest of the guard to report for observation." She nodded and began walking toward the door, not waiting to see if I had decided to follow her lead. When I stayed rooted to the floor Aro said, "Hurry up, child. I am giving you an opportunity, and I will not make this offer a second time."

I took a deep breath and turned to follow the girl he had called Jane. I wasn't quite sure where I was going, or what would greet me once I got to my destination, but if there was even a chance that he was giving me the opportunity to come face to face with the women that had murdered Emmett, I had to take it. We wound around many dark, twisting hallways before we arrived at another large wooden door, and I was instructed to enter. The door creaked open and I stepped into a room that immediately filled me with terror.

I barely registered the spikes of stone adorning the walls or the smell of sweet ash as my gaze locked on the center of the room, where the floor seemed to have been cut out and replaced with a pit of fire. Through my fear, I cursed myself for being so foolish. Aro had offered me what I wanted most right now, and I had willingly walked right into a trap. I should have known that the Volturi would never side against Victoria. In Carlisle's own words, they were manipulative and evil.

Instinctively, I turned toward the door, my mind buzzing with finding a way to escape this room. As I was running toward it, the door quickly swung open, and a boy that looked strikingly similar to Jane tossed a body inside the room like it was a rag doll before quickly closing the door behind him. I heard the door latch click into place, but my focus was no longer on escape as my eyes narrowed and I watched the rag doll come to life. Every part of my body began to hum in anticipation as she got to her feet and turned, unsteadily, to face me.

For the first time since I had found out that I had lost Emmett, I felt my lips turning upward in a smile. Perhaps the Volturi deserved a little more credit than Carlisle had given, because Aro had made good on his promise. I moved toward the quivering girl slowly, the smile never leaving my face as I said, "Hello, Tanya."


	25. WARNING SIGN

**In the previous chapter, we found ourselves in Italy as Victoria was welcomed back and the three leaders (well, make that two because Marcus is inconsequential at the moment) deliberated over what to do with the news that Carlisle's family had broken the rules. It is in this chapter we learned that Aro and Caius are not exactly on the same page: Aro wants to save the gifted Cullens and Caius wants them all to die. This new chapter, with the exception of Edward's POV, takes place in Forks. It might make you sad. Onward! :)**

**25 ~ Warning Sign**

"**A warning sign,  
I missed the good part then I realized,  
I started looking and the bubble burst  
I started looking for excuses…  
When the truth is,  
I miss you  
Yeah the truth is,  
That I miss you so  
A warning sign,  
You came back to haunt me and I realized  
you were an island and I passed you by,  
You were an island to discover  
Come on in,  
I've gotta tell you what state I'm in,  
I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones,  
That I started looking for a warning sign  
When the truth is,  
I miss you  
Yeah the truth is,  
That I miss you so  
And I'm tired,  
I should not have let you go...****"**

_**Warning Sign **_**by Coldplay**

**Monday, October 10 to Wednesday, October 12**

_**Charlie's POV**_

Seven days. I had lived seven days of my life without my daughter when I got the phone call. Despite the protests of my friends and coworkers, I had thrown myself back into the job the day after the funeral, using it as a means of distraction, a desperate attempt to keep my mind from dwelling on all that I had lost. But Forks was not exactly a hotspot for criminal activity and I found that, as I sat behind my desk or drove the cruiser around town, my thoughts always drifted back to Bella.

Once I realized that nothing was going to completely block them out, I struggled to allow the memories of my daughter to trickle into my brain slowly to prevent them from flooding my mind and breaking the fragile control I held over my emotions. And for those six days, save for the minutes I had spent in the presence of the man I held mostly responsible for Bella's absence, I had succeeded in staying strong when I was outside the privacy of my home. My heart ached, yes, but my grief was not so substantial that it immobilized me.

Then she called and spoke the words that my conscience had been whispering all along. I had arrived home from an uneventful evening shift at the station, hanging my gun holster on its peg in the kitchen, just as I had always done. I turned from the wall and my eyes raked over the kitchen, and, just as with every other time I took in the sights of this room since Bella's death, I was reminded of how it used to be when I arrived home.

I would remember how the smells of her delicious cooking would make my stomach rumble even if I had just eaten, and how I would always take a second to be thankful that two kitchen-impaired people had managed to produce one damn good cook. I remembered the way Bella always used to smile as she watched me take the first bite of a new culinary creation and how she used to roll her eyes at me and say, "Beer and pizza is _not _an acceptable dinner, Dad," when I would tell her that I was perfectly capable of cooking for myself if she ever wanted a break. If I closed my eyes, I could almost see her, hear her soft voice, just the way it had always been.

But then I would open my eyes, and I would remember that she was gone. On every other night, this was when it would hit me, the pain of her absence. I would sit down at the kitchen table, lay my head in my crossed arms and just cry. I would cry for Bella and the life she should have had and I would cry for her child and the life it could have had and then, as I became emotionally and physically exhausted, I would fall into a fitful sleep at the table, crying for the life I, now, would always live alone.

But _that_ night, before I could seat myself at the kitchen table, the phone rang. I glanced at the clock, slightly curious as to who would be calling me after ten but nonetheless thankful for the momentary rescue from my new routine of memories and tears. I picked up the receiver and mumbled, "Hello?"

"Why din't you see?" slurred the nasally voice on the other end of the line. I knew the identity of the caller immediately, and my heart sank even further into the dismal depths of my body. I opened my mouth to speak, but the sound of a loud sob caused me to snap it shut again and her teary voice drifted to my ears. "You're her father, Charlie. You were s'posed to keep her safe." She paused and took a sharp breath before continuing, "You were s'posed to keep my baby girl safe." Another sob, and the slosh of what I assumed to be a bottle of alcohol sounded softly in the background.

"Renée, I—"

"Why din't you see it?" she shouted, cutting me off. "Why din't you see that we were losing our baby? You're a cop. You know the signs. Why din't you pay attention! I trusted you! I trusted—" And then her words stopped and there were muffled sounds in the background before Phil got on the phone and mumbled words of apology.

"I'm sorry, man," he said. "She just, she's taking this really hard, you know?" He, himself, sounded on the verge of tears as he continued, "I dunno what she said, but I'm sure she didn't mean it."

"'S okay," I mumbled and hung up the phone. But it was too late; the damage of her words had been done. I knew that Renée was grieving and lost and, probably, very, very drunk when she phoned here and that the next day she would likely call to apologize. There really was no need for apologies, though, because she was also one hundred percent right: I should have seen this coming. And I should have stopped it.

The day Bella left us, I thought back to how she had been acting and things she had said. I realized then that there were signs everywhere that had pointed to this outcome, signs that Bella was slipping away to a place so dark that she would eventually disappear. I had noticed the symptoms of her depression as soon as they had started but they had terrified me and so I had refused to see them for what they were. I didn't want to believe that something so trivial as a high school romance gone bad could break my strong little girl so completely that she would just give up. I didn't want to believe that she was suffering from a problem that I couldn't fix. She was my daughter and it was my responsibility to make sure that any monsters or demons or bad memories hiding in her closet went away. And I had failed her.

I realized it on that first day, but I pushed it aside because it was a guilt that I did not have the strength to bear. Then I had managed to suppress it completely when I started to blame the instigator of my daughter's grief. But the phone call from Renée had brought all of my guilt rushing to the surface, and I had to steady my hands against the wall to prevent myself from collapsing under the weight of it. I thought that I had known grief the past few nights when I spent my evening hours crying myself to sleep, but it was nothing compared to the flashes of pain that tore at my heart and my lungs and my mind upon reliving this realization.

And it was too much. My daughter was gone and it was my fault and it was entirely too much. So, that night, instead of sitting at the table, I slid my body down the wall next to the fridge. I opened it up, grabbed a can of beer, popped the top and drank it down. And then I grabbed another and another until the pain that was weighing me down had disappeared. And for the first time since Bella's death, I felt nothing.

When I awoke the next morning to find myself on the kitchen floor with one of the worst headaches I had ever experienced, the memories came streaming back, as did the pain and the guilt and the pressure weighing me down. But I also remembered what it felt like to be numb, and I longed to have that peace again. So I called the station and told them that I was taking a leave of absence and then I drove into town and bought a few more cases of beer.

The days passed in a blur after that, as I spent my waking hours drinking myself into numbness to escape my grief. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that eventually I would need to deal with the pain and the guilt instead of running from it, but I kept telling myself that I wasn't ready just yet. That I needed just a few more days of calm.

And that's what I had gotten, a few more days of it, because yesterday Harry, Billy and Jacob had shown up at my house in the wee morning hours and forced me to snap myself out of the haze I was perfectly content to exist in. I had been asleep in the living room, a half empty can of beer in hand, when they started banging on my front door. I didn't answer at first, figuring that they would eventually go away, but they just kept right on banging for about twenty minutes until I got fed up, stumbled to the door, unlocked it and asked what the hell they wanted.

They all stared at me for a few seconds, giving me just enough time to notice that Jacob seemed to have sprouted into a giant overnight before I was being carried, against my will, to the upstairs bathroom. I was deposited unceremoniously into the shower, fully clothed, both chilled and startled to life by the ice cold water that began pelting my face. I started shouting and jumped out of the shower, cursing up a storm at the three men who had thoroughly interrupted my peace.

Jacob left the room and Harry and Billy just stayed in the doorway, waiting for me to grow silent. Eventually, I did, though I continued to glare at them in annoyance. "We're staging an intervention," Billy said with a serious expression. "You haven't left this house in five days, you don't answer your phone or your door and judging from the condition of your living room, you're drinking yourself stupid. No friend of mine is going to go down that road without one hell of a fight from me." I fought the urge to snicker at his words, because Billy wasn't really in any condition to fight.

"Get sobered up and get dressed. We're going fishing," Harry said. I made an attempt to argue, but he held up his hand in dismissal. "You can go willingly or we can drag you along, but, one way or another, you are leaving this house with us. It's your choice, Charlie." I grumbled and huffed as I looked between the two of them, wondering how exactly they planned on forcing me to go with them, but then I remembered Jacob and I dragged my feet to my bedroom to put on some dry clothing.

An hour later, we were out on the boat, fishing poles in hand, me staring at the water and them staring at me. We sat in silence for a long time as I tried not to think about Bella. I failed miserably, but the presence of my friends somehow helped soothe me enough that I didn't lose control at the memories. I just sat there, staring at the still water, straddling the line of a breakdown.

Then the water rippled to the side of me and Harry started reeling in his line. A minute later, he was lifting a fish out of the water, smiling as it wriggled on the hook, and that was when it happened. I flashed back to a time many years ago, to a memory of Bella when she was six years old. Twelve years had passed since then, and yet I remembered every detail as if it were yesterday. I had taken Bella out for her first fishing trip that summer day. The water had started to ripple and she stood between my legs and held on to the pole as I brought the line in and lifted the fish into the boat. It was just a little thing, the perfect size for her then, and her eyes were wide with wonder as I handed it to her so she could hold it out for a picture before we released it back into the water. "I did it Daddy, I did it," she gushed, giggling and bouncing as she held the fish at arms length for the photo and I told her I was proud of her. She smiled widely at my words, displaying her missing front tooth and shaking her pig-tailed head happily, trying to keep the too-big fishing hat I had given her out of her eyes. Then she ran up to my seated form and threw her arms around my neck. She said, "I love you, Daddy" and I hugged her and said it back. I used to say it all the time back then, and I found myself ripped away from the memory and thrust into reality wondering why I didn't tell her more recently when I had the chance.

And that was it—my breaking point. The sorrow and the shame and the memories crashed over me and I sobbed. I dropped my fishing pole and lowered my face into my hands and I just let it all out. Billy and Harry remained silent and allowed me to do what I needed. And then, when my tears had run out and we had made our way back to my house, Harry said the words that I needed to hear just then. "You aren't alone in this, Charlie. We're still here." I nodded, more grateful for their friendship than I had energy to show.

Billy said, "Seahawks game is tomorrow. I expect to see you on my couch by 2:00." Then he wheeled himself back to the truck and after a few minutes, they were gone. I went into my house and cleaned up the empty beer cans, trying my best to steer clear of the temptation of the full cases in my refrigerator. The numbness seemed to be calling to me, though, beckoning me to return to the place where the pain disappeared.

A few hours after my return from the fishing trip, when I was staring at the pictures of Bella that would always hold pride of place on my mantle, my gaze fell upon a small photo that was mostly blocked from my view. I lifted it from its spot and ran my fingertips along her smiling cheek and out her arm to the tiny fish it held. I stood motionless and then I noticed the spots that were diminishing the dust that had collected on the frame. I realized that the wetness was my silent tears, and the picture slipped from my shaking hands and fell to the floor, the glass shattering when it hit. The pain that Harry's words had made bearable started to intensify in my chest as I realized that I would always be broken, just like the glass, and I easily gave in and opened up the fridge.

I awakened today to the shrill ringing of the telephone. I grumbled and put the large sofa pillow over my head to block out the noise, but the muffled ringing continued. Finally, I removed the pillow and glanced at the clock, taking a moment to clear the fuzz from my mind enough to remember that I was supposed to be somewhere ten minutes ago.

I could have let it go and opened another beer. I could have taken the phone off the hook and locked my door and just blocked them all out. But I didn't. I picked up the phone, told Billy I was running late, hopped into the cruiser and made my way to La Push to watch the game, to try to do something normal, to attempt for one minute to forget how messed up my life had become.

Only to find myself here an hour later, speeding down the highway, almost blinded by tears because Jacob had mentioned Bella's name, and that mentioning had coincided with the information that the Cullens had returned. I had hoped that after our encounter at the cemetery, Edward would leave and never come back. But learning of his return, knowing that mere miles away from me he was living and breathing and _suffering_, filled me with a foreign emotion: comfort.

I needed to see him and watch as he dealt with the pain. I needed to know that somewhere out there another person existed that was feeling the same agony and guilt that I was, to know that I was not alone in this struggle. Friendship and physical presence was not enough to ease this pain and allow me to move on. I needed to watch him suffer and I needed to ask him why. Why he had left her and hurt her and lied to her and why he hadn't cared. I needed to know everything and I needed to think and to feel grief in company and then, maybe, when I finally had the whole story, I would be able to absolve some of this guilt enough to heal and finally say goodbye to my daughter.

I resolved to visit the Cullens soon, but first, I had to sober up and get some rest. My mind had to be clear and I would have to find a way to convince myself to stay calm no matter what truths my visit would reveal. Because I was afraid that, in addition to the comfort that his misery and explanations may bring, I would still also feel the desire to end his life.

_**Jacob's POV**_

_I say we kill the lot of them! _Paul's thoughts shouted after listening to my mind's recount of what I had seen. I had returned to my brothers after being convinced that Charlie was staying in for the night, only to find their thoughts in near hysterics, all of their voices bombarding my mind at once. Paul's, as usual, was the loudest—and the most asinine. I could hear his thoughts as clear as day, but still, I wondered as to his brain capacity. He reminded me of one of those jocks you see in the movies—brawny as hell, but took a few too many hits to the noggin that severely hampered his ability to react with any emotion other than aggression.

He turned to me and lunged upon hearing my new tangential train of thought, and I was about to return the gesture, eager for a chance to fight Paul, but Sam growled and demanded that we stand down, and it was an order we had no choice but to heed. I felt a surge of shame that I had been about to fight one of my brothers, even if it _was _Paul, because we had much bigger fish to fry at the moment. My thinking was parallel to Sam's.

_We do not have time to act like a bunch of savages and waste our energies fighting amongst each other. All of you here have heard Jacob's report of what he saw at the Cullen house earlier today and I know from your thoughts that the majority of you are surpassing certain details from his account in order to justify an immediate attack on the coven of leeches._

_I, as your leader, however, do not have the luxury of overlooking such details. You will all listen to me now, and remain __**silent**__, as I relay to you the reasons why we are going to hold off on attacking the Cullens. _There was an uproar of grumbles and low growls as Sam's thoughts reached our minds, but we had received an order from our leader and our own minds remained quiet as he continued.

_First and foremost is the fact that we are outnumbered If we are to assume that the absence of the Cullen's two male leaders is temporary, then there are two of them to every one of us _More low grumbles erupted, as the others attempted to wordlessly convey their position on an uneven fight. I remained completely silent, not because I was an ass-kisser to Sam, nor because I didn't want a fight, but because I, on some instinctual level, related to his position. His responsibility, all of ours, really, was to protect our people from harm, and we were included in that bunch. If Sam thought we would not prevail in a fight, it was his duty to prevent our demise. He continued through their protests _I have great confidence in our fighting abilities, but I will not risk any of your lives by ordering a fight at those odds It is likely that the leeches' return will cause the transformations of more descendants, which means that, in time, the numbers will become more even and a fight may ensue._

_But that fight is still questionable for multiple reasons. The first goes back to the treaty, the agreement which governs both our actions, and theirs. Many of you argue that the suicide of Isabella Swan marked the vampires' breech of the treaty, but I disagree. They did not physically harm her or murder her or bite her. They left her here and she made the choice to end her life. Do I place some blame on the Cullens? Yes. But their actions did not invalidate the treaty._

_Especially when, as we have all seen in Jake's thoughts, Isabella may still be alive. Jake heard two distinct heartbeats at the Cullen house, which means there were two humans with them when they arrived. I do not wish to get anyone's hopes up right now, but one of them may have belonged to Bella. The other appears to have belonged to the child that we don't know much about._

_Those two heartbeats are the other reasons I do not want to start a fight at this time. Right now, at this moment, there are two innocent people in that house. They may not belong to our tribe or even be anyone that we know, but they are still innocents. What do you all imagine will happen to them if we go to the Cullens looking for a fight? Do you think they would survive? _Sam's eyes touched on all of us before he continued _I doubt it. If the leeches didn't kill them, then it is likely that one of us inadvertently would. No one knows better than I the amount of lost control once we transform and the adrenaline starts coursing through our veins I live and breathe the memory of it every time I look at Emily. I don't want any of us to have the lives of that woman and child on his conscience._

_So this is what I propose, what I __**order **__you all to do for the time being. I want to continue our rounds of observation to learn what we can about the identity of the two humans and why the leeches returned here. We will always approach the line in groups of three and we will do everything in our power to remain invisible, as we will be breaking part of the treaty by crossing onto their lands._

_The only reason I am allowing even this small breach is because we need to know what we are dealing with, who those humans are and why they are with the vampires. Once we have acquired that information, we will go from there. If the Cullen's have not violated the treaty, we will stay off of their land, leave them alone and stay cautious in guarding our people, just as before._

_And if they have broken the treaty? _Jared asked in our minds, the bonds of Sam's command apparently lifted.

_If the Cullen's have broken it _Sam replied slowly _then we will kill them all._

It was in that one statement, and the angry gleam in Sam's eyes, when I realized that we were not the only ones bound by obligation to an unseen power. Sam, as the leader, had a command over us all that could not be broken. But Sam also had to answer to a command, and it seemed that his leader was the treaty. Its rules governed him just as his words governed us. The treaty demanded that we not be the side to nullify it, but I could see in Sam's expression that his heart, his _self_ desired otherwise. He wanted the Cullens to burn as much, if not more, than Paul did.

When we returned to his home for dinner, and I saw the way he looked at Emily with a mixture of love and guilt, I knew why. The accident had happened shortly after he had changed. He was still struggling with controlling his anger, his transformations, and something she had said had set him off. He never forgave himself for what he had done to her, and she, in all the kindness of her heart, had never blamed him.

Eventually Sam came to realize that he was not the only one at fault for his actions that day. Because if he had never changed, he never would have attacked her. And if the Cullens had never returned to Forks, he never would have changed. He had found a way to ease his guilt by blaming the Cullen's for the scars he had to see on Emily's face every day. And now that they were back, he wanted more than anything to make them pay for what he had done.

After dinner, I transformed and made my way back to Forks to check on Charlie. Throughout my entire run in the forest, I found myself wondering if there was a point at which the anger we all housed would become so much that it would overrule the ties that bound us. I also wondered what kind of chaos and destruction would ensue if it did.

_**Edward's POV**_

Everything was dark here. Even the sunrise that should have created a façade of brightness in the physical world surrounding me had been eclipsed by the clouds. I longed to have the light restored in my life, to once again see the beauty of the sunshine that would remind me why I existed, but I knew that such an event was an impossibility, and it was such because of the decisions I had made. I had _chosen_ to leave my potentially happy life behind, to go running headfirst into the lion's den knowing full well of the dangers and the consequences of that action.

When I had made the conscious decision to travel to Volterra, I had clung to the hope that this mess could somehow be rectified without further loss or heartbreak. I had held on tightly to the only shred of optimism I had ever possessed, convincing myself that I would find a way to return to Bella and our daughter, that we would be together in the end, just as we were always meant to be.

But there came a point during the ambulance ride, a stitch in time that I would forevermore look upon with resentment, where my world had shifted. There were no images, no concrete assertions, no certainties. There was only a sensation that rapidly seeped into my being until it engulfed my entire body, heightening my instincts, chilling me to my bones and placing me more on edge, if such a thing were even possible. It was in that single, fleeting moment that any fragments of clairvoyance floating through my mind pooled together and, with all of their might, they tried to warn me that this quest would bring about my undoing.

At the time, I had rationalized this paralyzing feeling as the mere convergence of my fears. I told myself that I was stronger than that which scared me, that it would be cowardly to allow my apprehensions to deter me from the task of saving my sister's life. I had gathered up all of the niggling notions in my head and pushed them aside long enough to kiss my girls goodbye and follow Carlisle's lead onto the airplane. I sat back in the window seat, my rigid backbone belying the feelings of defeat and despair that seemed to increase in tandem with the miles that began to separate Bella and I. Gone was the strength that had been so convincing only hours before and I felt its absence like a punch to the gut as the nagging feelings slowly grew to full-blown panic.

In some way, I supposed I had known all along that there was more to the sensation than I wanted to believe. That was why I had quickly scripted the letter and slipped it inside of his pocket. True, I had told myself at the time that the note was just another example of my need to be cautious and feel in control. I had justified the words that made my stomach lurch at their mere contemplation by convincing myself that it was always good to have a back-up plan. I had told myself time and time again as I clenched the wrinkled parchment that this was just in case; that, in reality, it would never, _could_ never come to _that_.

Only now, I was growing evermore certain that my written suggestions would come to pass. My instincts had given me time to rethink my actions, given me the chance to change my mind and make the choice to live out the remainder of my existence with the family I had helped to create. My mind had set off warning bells and red alert signals and every other possible attention grabbing sensation to inform me that I was making a mistake. I did not deserve it, but I had been given _another _chance to choose Bella, to choose love, to choose _life. _And what had I done with my golden opportunity? I had _chosen _to allow everything that mattered to me to just slip away. I had cast aside my blatant premonition of doom and written a goddamn letter. My stupidity was so obvious to me now, but the realization had come too late and the ship of salvation that would have carried me to my promised land had long since sailed.

I was drowning in a sea of fear and self-loathing as I walked beside my father toward the lair of the Volturi. I cast a glance at the clouded sky, begging for just a glimpse of a ray of sunshine, praying for some small sign that there was a reason for renewed hope. But the darkness remained, and I steeled myself with all of my remaining courage as I made my way closer to the destiny I had _chosen. _It was too late to run from fate now, but it would never be too late to fight back.

_**Conner's POV**_

My hand reached into the pocket of my coat, just as it had been doing at regular intervals since I had removed my jacket two days ago and noticed the small, crinkled slip of paper fall to the floor. I had picked it up, read and re-read the neat script that graced its surface, and then shoved it back into the pocket from whence it came, never to look at it again. But every so often, I would find that my fingers subconsciously felt for the message, most likely in an effort to convince my tortured mind that it was real.

It could easily have been a figment of my imagination, after all, his words offered me everything I had wanted for so long, granted his blessing for actions he would previously have attempted to murder me for. It was like he was giving me a gift I had only before dreamed about, but his offerings came with the stipulation of his prolonged absence, and I felt increasingly guilty as I dared to hope that he would never return when every other member of this household was praying for the opposite.

I spent the whole of yesterday sitting with Bella, talking to her, confessing things to her while Emmalie was asleep in my arms that I had no business telling her. It was not my place to love her as strongly as I did, nor was it my right to want access to her heart just as fully. But with every minute that passed, I was growing more and more attached to the idea of being a family with the woman and child in this room.

The others had all gone out in shifts to hunt, but I could not bring myself to leave them, or my troubled thoughts, behind. It weighed on my heart as I realized that I was already assuming the role he had offered—the guardian, the caretaker. It was becoming all too effortless to imagine resuming this role for an eternity, and yet I had no guarantees that it would always be mine to covet. Edward could easily return in days, weeks, maybe even months, and then I would be back to my previous position of loneliness, an observer watching from the sidelines as someone else lived the life I had always wanted.

As the hours passed, I tried to be reasonable, tried not to get my hopes up entirely too high. I looked around the room that Bella occupied, smelled his scent permeating through it, and realized that, even if he never returned, my position in this family was not only his to grant. Edward could never return, and still, I might have nothing, because his presence was all around me. His possessions, his essence, his _memory_. I knew that Bella's love for and loyalty to him would be nearly impossible to overcome, and Emmalie would never be able to see another man fill the shoes of her father. It didn't matter if he was physically here or not, I would still have to battle Edward's memory, and that was a fight I was not assured of winning.

The sun had set and risen again, and as the new day came I knew that I needed to escape the company of the family I so desperately wanted so that I might think more clearly about what was the morally right thing to do in this situation. After I had the clarity of the fresh air and the silence to wash through my thoughts, my emotions shifted with ferocity. I was angry, not at myself for my desires, but at Edward for, once again, passing Bella and Emmalie on as if they were nothing more than mere possessions that could be forgotten and left behind. My logical mind knew that this was likely not his intention, but I didn't much feel like being logical. I felt like being angry because it was so much easier than being confused and shameful and _hopeful_.

I started to think about all of the angry words I wished I could share with Edward, about how good it would feel to physically release some of my frustrations on his person. Then an excited voice broke through my thoughts and I looked toward the house.

"Uncle Conner! Hurry! Momma wakes up!" For the first time since Edward had left, a wide smile was gracing Emmalie's face, and I couldn't help but be momentarily affected by it. That little girl was an angel, and I vowed as I followed her and Alice up the steps that I would do everything in my power to make sure that her broad smile never left her face.

"We still have a few minutes. I saw her waking up in one of my visions," Alice whispered as we reached the last flight of stairs and she handed Emmalie to Kate before ascending them. I looked at her questioningly and she replied, "She's still half-human and I can't see her future clearly, so I don't want to take a chance on Bella reacting poorly to her nature. Emmie understands." Alice opened the door to Edward's room to reveal Esme sitting at Bella's bedside, watching her intently. "Not so close, Esme. She's going to be a little startled when she wakes up," Alice warned. Esme stood and backed away a few feet, her eyes never leaving Bella's face.

We all stood, watching her and waiting, until the rapid heartbeat that had been emanating from her chest gradually grew louder, and then, suddenly, silent. Her eyelids flickered and the tips of fingers twitched and then, in less than a second, she had propelled herself off of the bed gracefully and landed in a crouched position on the black leather sofa by the window.

"Who are you?" she hissed, and my breathing stopped completely. Bella looked at all of us, thoroughly checking us over, but the confusion in her eyes never left.

"Bella?" Alice said gently, holding her arms out in a yielding posture. "We're your family." She took a breath. "My name is Alice. I'm your sister." Bella looked at her, furrowing her brow in an obvious attempt at remembrance.

But when her forehead smoothed out again and she stepped off of the couch in to a more human-like stance, she whispered, "I'm sorry, Alice, but I don't remember you."

"What do you remember?" I asked cautiously, feeling the heat of her crimson gaze shift to me.

Bella sighed and nibbled on her bottom lip before plopping down in the sofa, clenching her head in her hands and breathing out, "Nothing."

My heart broke for her obvious frustration at her lack of memories, but there was another, distant part of my soul that was singing in happiness. Because if she remembered nothing, then she had forgotten Edward. She had forgotten his love and his betrayal and her loyalty to him that he did not deserve. If she had forgotten him then I would not have to wage a war with his memory. I would simply have to be there for her and make her happy and hope that one day the love I had seen her so easily give to him would be granted to me.

"Bella, I don't know how to tell you this, but—" Alice started and I shot her a look that pleaded with her to be quiet before I realized that her eyes had glazed over and her mouth was hanging open with unspoken words. Thirty seconds later, her golden gaze cleared and she shot up from her seated position on the sofa to look out the window, whispering something inaudible, even to my own ears.

And then I heard a clear sound, the sound of crunching gravel at the front of the house. All of our heads whipped to the window at the sound, and Alice glanced at Bella in fear. Then she looked to me and said, "Conner, get Bella out of here. NOW. Take her out the back window to the forest to hunt." When I didn't immediately move, she shouted, "Please, hurry." The desperation in her voice forced me to act.

I laced my fingers with Bella's, looking to her for her approval at the gesture, and then led her to the balcony outside of Edward's room. It took a little bit of convincing on my part, but eventually, I coaxed her to jump, and we both landed easily in the grass before breaking out into a run toward the river. Her hand never left mine as we sprinted away from whatever danger Alice had seen, and the smile never left my face as I listened to her laughter echo through the leaves as she experienced all that was good about being what we were.

Eventually, I relinquished her touch so that she could run with abandon and as she leapt from tree to tree and I watched her shiny hair blowing in the breeze, I reached, once again into my pocket. But this time, I removed the note and let it flutter away in the wind before it fell gently into the river, its words smudging and blurring as the clear liquid washed them away. I smiled at the sight and then returned my gaze to Bella. I did not need Edward's approval to love the beautiful woman before me. I only needed to win her love in return, and hope that, even if he did come back someday, she will have grown to love me enough to let him go_._


	26. BROKEN PROMISE

**Alright, lovelies, we are back in good 'ole Italy for this one. In the last chapter, we were in Forks and we learned of Charlie's pain and guilt, that Bella was awake with no memories of her life before and Conner wants to take Edward's place, at Edward's request…sort of. Just in case you forgot…when last we were in the land of the Volturi, we heard from Victoria and Caius, both of them lobbying for the Cullens to be killed because they let the cat out of the bag that vampires exist. But Aro, he's all about getting the gifted Cullens to join his elite guard, rules be damned! And Rose, she's out for vengeance, and it looks like she might just get it because Tanya was just plopped in front of her. So let's see how that turned out, shall we?**

**26 ~ Broken Promise**

"…**I'll cry about this  
And hide my cuckold eyes  
As you come off all concerned  
I'll find no solace  
In your poor apology  
In your regret that sounds absurd  
And keep singing  
I'll wait my turn  
To tear inside you  
Watch you burn  
And I'll wait my turn  
To terrorize you  
Watch you burn  
And I'll wait my turn  
I'll wait my turn  
And this is a promise  
Promise is a promise…  
And I'll wait my turn  
To tear inside you  
Watch you burn  
I'll wait my turn…  
A broken promise  
You were not honest  
I'll bide my time  
I'll wait my turn****"**

_**Broken Promise **_**by Placebo**

**Tuesday, October 11**

_**Tanya's POV**_

My senses were being bombarded by sights and smells and an unexplainable, chilling fear as soon as I hit the uneven stones of the floor. It took me a few moments to adjust to the sensations, and as I struggled to lift my tired body from the harshly cold surface upon which I was deposited, my gaze flitted around the room until I caught sight of her. Her narrowed eyes seemed capable of piercing my flesh with their anger, and the malevolence in her words as she greeted me left me with no doubts about her motivation to follow us to Italy. Victoria and I had killed the person in this world that Rosalie valued most, and now she wanted us dead.

Perhaps I should have tried to apologize, to beg for forgiveness that I did not deserve, to plead with her to spare my life. I should have made an attempt to escape from this room that reeked of pain and torture and death. Instead, I just stood in front of her, my mouth agape, caught in her stare like a deer that stands motionless in the headlights of an oncoming car. She took slow, deliberate steps in my direction and, still, I could not move. My lips quivered and I struggled to say something, anything, to convey the remorse that afflicted me. Finally, I swallowed hard and whispered, "Rose, I'm sorry. I didn't—"

She smiled at me then, shocking my feeble words of apology into silence. I knew that particular smile well, as I had seen a similar version on Victoria's face whenever she spoke of claiming vengeance against Edward. It was a smile of hatred and violence and _death_. She began to shake her head back and forth, and then she spoke with an eerily calm assurance. "No, Tanya, you aren't sorry. But you will be."

She growled and latched onto my hair before quickly hurling me against the opposite wall. My body slammed into the stone spikes adorning the surface and I yelped in pain before I fell to the ground, some of the sharpened rocks crumbling on top of me. I had barely managed to rise into a crawling position before I was being picked up and thrown against a different wall. My instincts were screaming at me to stand, to make an attempt to fight back, to _survive_, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything more than cower before her. She flung me into the walls over and over again, her growls growing louder and more maniacal each time that I failed to defend myself. She screamed at me to fight back, but I couldn't. I just took each painful hit, and, eventually, I lost the will to even pick myself up off of the floor.

I curled into a ball and began to sob, crying from guilt and regret and the fear of what lie ahead for me. I had lived as an immortal for so long that it had never struck me to be concerned with what happened to us when we die. Now that my death was on the horizon, the questions plagued me. Was it simply darkness that followed this life? Did we merely cease to exist, burning to ashes that would wither away into nothing, our souls finally having disappeared? Or was there more to life after death, was there salvation and doom to be found in other worlds. Part of me wanted to believe that the ancient religions were founded in truth, that a paradise existed, even for our kind. Because if that were true, if there was hope for us once our lives were ended on this earth, then maybe Emmett wasn't fully lost. Maybe, someday, he and Rose would be reunited and, in some small measurement, I could find redemption from my guilt, though I'm certain I will not escape my consequences.

Because if I were to believe this way, to believe that heaven truly existed, to hope that Emmett had, in some way, been saved, then I must also believe in the reality of hell. No matter my level of genuine remorse over the deeds that I had done, I couldn't fathom a God that would allow my passage into paradise. My soul would forever be surrounded by evil and darkness and I would be alone.

Rosalie kicked my chest and I rolled onto my back, my body still shaking with sobs. I didn't know what to do. I was terrified of the unknown, afraid to die with the knowledge that I had betrayed everyone that I had loved and that they would never know how much I wanted to take it all back. I cried for my family, and for Rosalie, and for me. I cried for everything, because I didn't have the strength or the courage to do anything else.

Through my sobs, I found myself howling at the pain of enduring Rosalie's beating. She had resorted to punching me in the face, and after one particularly harsh blow that landed me on my stomach, I wailed between ragged breaths, "Please. Stop. Sorry." I put my palms to the floor and attempted to stand, casting a weary glance in Rosalie's direction as I did so. Her growls died and her punches momentarily ceased as the hint of a smile began to form on her lips. For a few seconds, we simply stared at each other.

That was when I heard the whispers. I shifted my gaze from Rose, whose smile sent a chill down my aching spine, to the upper segments of the walls, where holes had been built among the sharpened spikes. I barely stifled a gasp at the sight before me, and the realization that it invoked. Each hole was filled with guard members, their crimson eyes fixed intently on Rosalie and myself, waiting to see what would happen next, waiting to see who would perish in the pit of fire that occupied the center of the room. Rosalie and I were some sick, twisted version of vampire gladiators, and the guards were waiting for the action to continue. To them, our fight was not about lost love or betrayal or justice. It was merely a source of entertainment, a way to pass the unending hours of eternity.

And directly in the center of the group of gray-cloaked individuals was a face I had grown to despise. She was watching in earnest, though I doubt she truly cared which one of us survived this fight. And when that thought crossed my mind, I truly began to fear. Because I deserved what was to come, I deserved pain and death and humiliation, but Rosalie did not. Her anger was justified, her actions within reason, but deep down, she was a good person. And I realized when I made eye contact with Victoria, when she smiled that same menacing smile, that the Volturi were merely giving Rose her moment before they stabbed her in the back and destroyed her.

Rosalie, oblivious to the stares of our observers, continued to display her wrath, to punch and kick and grab and scream. And all I could do was continue to cry for the disaster that our lives had become and repeatedly whisper my apologies. I longed for the pain and peace of death now. I prayed that, soon, Rosalie would end my life and, then, by some miracle, find a way to save her own.

_**Rosalie's POV**_

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" she kept whispering. Every time the words left her mouth, I wanted to reach down her throat and rip out her larynx so that she would just shut the fuck up. I didn't want to hear her apologies because her words were all just useless bullshit. There was nothing she could say that could make up for what she had done, nothing she could do fix this hell that she had helped to create. I didn't care about her motivations for murder, and I didn't want some sorry excuse insanity plea. And I sure as hell didn't want her to lay on the floor like a fucking welcome mat to my assault, acting weak and defenseless and sobbing her black heart out.

I wanted her to fight me, to beg me to stop, or, hell, to just make it seem like I wouldn't be granting her the biggest fucking wish of her life by killing her. I wanted the gaping hole in my chest to be filled with satisfaction as I made her pay for killing Emmett. I didn't want _this_. I couldn't find satisfaction in a one-sided fight. I couldn't dull the pain this way. I knew I could have killed her almost immediately, just dragged her pathetic ass over to the fire pit, tossed her into the flames and watched her burn. But there was no therapy for my grief in giving Tanya something that she wanted so I refused to let this go so easily.

I threw her around for awhile, watching as her body fought with the spikes on the wall to see which could last the longest before crumbling. Then, when she became a blubbering heap of torn clothing and rubble, I started kicking and punching her, yelling at her to fight back in order to drown out the sound of her sobs. I refused to allow her crying to make me feel guilty about my desire to kill her, because she _deserved_ this. She deserved to be pained and tortured and killed. A microscopic part of my mind managed to acknowledge that Tanya might truly be regretful for what she had done, but her remorse was worthless to me. It would not bring Emmett back or make losing him more bearable. It was nothing, just as she would be nothing. I punched her harder and harder, watching her neck snap from side to side as my fist repeatedly contacted her jaw. I swung one last time and watched as her body rolled and skidded to a stop a few feet away from me.

And then, finally, she broke and asked me to stop. I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face because I figured that she had just decided to stop being such a spineless coward. I thought that she had finally chosen to fight for her life, which would make taking it away all the more enjoyable for me. But moments later, she was back to the crying routine and I had had enough. I furiously beat her and screamed at her while I tried to decide an appropriate way to kill her. I could tear her apart first, or I could just throw her in the fire whole, but either way, this bitch was moments away from meeting her maker because I had grown tired of using her as a punching bag. I just wanted this to be over.

I grabbed her arm and yanked her whimpering body toward the pit of flames. The nearer we drew to the fire, the quieter her cries became until the room was filled with an eerie silence. I could feel the heat on my skin and I resisted the urge to shudder at the instinctual fear the sensation stirred within me. I knelt beside her, preparing to rip her body to pieces when she chose to speak again.

"Wait, please," she pleaded, and I almost choked on my sneer. She was so fucking pitiful, and if she thought asking nicely was going to get her anywhere, she was out of her damn mind. "Before—" she sucked in a few uneven breaths and then continued, "You should know, his last thoughts were of you. He said he loved you—"

I didn't allow her to finish, I couldnt. I grabbed her throat with a trembling hand before lifting and slamming her head down against the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the torches that hung on the corner columns of the fire pit shake with the impact, and the sight of it caused a spark to ignite in my brain. I left Tanya's side for the briefest instant and snatched the fiery stick from its perch, praying that the idea that had just formed in my furious mind would work, praying that this would finally make her understand what she had done.

I knelt down beside her again, holding the light inches away from her face so I could see the fear in her eyes as I spoke my hatred-laced words. "I don't want to hear your assessment of Emmett's final thoughts. I just want you to pay for what you did to him." I briefly paused before quietly continuing, "And what you did to me." Before she could anticipate what was coming, I altered my grip on the torch and plunged it into her chest, the fire tearing through her flesh and allowing the spear to pierce her heart. Her agonized screams filled the air and I leaned in closer to her ear as I said, "Now you know how it feels to have your heart destroyed in an instant. Hurts like hell, doesn't it?"

She didn't respond, perhaps she wasn't even coherent enough to have heard me in the first place, but I didn't care. I stood and kicked her body into the pit and watched as the flames consumed her. "Ashes for ashes," I whispered, "Enjoy your eternity in the ninth circle, Tanya." My eyes glazed over as her flesh melted away, my breathing suspended to block out the smell of death that saturated the room. Somehow, though, the scent still found its way into my head, and, in an instant, I was no longer thinking about Tanya.

Thoughts of Emmett crossed my mind and all I kept hearing were those final words. _He said he loved you. _I sighed and lifted my head to the ceiling as my eyelids closed and I took a deep breath. "Oh, Emmett," I murmured, "I love you, too." The hole in my chest became impossibly larger and I realized that my efforts were futile. Tanya was dead and Emmett's death had been partially avenged; I should have felt content with that. Instead, I felt lost and alone and empty. There was nothing that I could do to fill the void that he had left behind, and, as that comprehension dawned, I dropped to my knees and allowed myself to fall apart.

_**Aro's POV**_

I sighed as I watched her fall to the floor and the soft hum of her sobs floated to my ears. She had shown such promise when she had arrived here, so full of anger and hatred and sadness and yet, so strong and determined. I had thought she was the perfect candidate, an ungifted _Cavea__porcellus_ that would allow us to gauge how well the guard's combined training efforts were progressing. Unfortunately, Rosalie's current display was causing me to doubt her capacity to provide a countering ability with strength that parallels that of a typical gifted member of our species. I needed her to pull herself back together and become the empowered woman she had been when she walked into the great room, fearless and demanding. I needed to know, with absolute certainty, that the results of our trial with her, should they be successful, would carry over to her _siblings. _Because if they failed, if our attempts at combined gift enhancement were ineffective, then I would have to resort to more _unorthodox_ tactics to acquire the loyalty of my new hopefuls, and that would require time and careful planning that, frankly, I did not have the patience for.

I could barely contain my excitement after I had scanned Rosalie's memories and learned the intricacies of the gifts that her family member's possessed. Little Alice had the rarest of their gifts, and, perhaps, the most powerful, but Edward's mind-reading capabilities were most intriguing as well. Unfortunately for me, in addition to their gifts, both of them also had a strong attachment to their mates which could prove impossible to supersede, even with the wide array of talents I had at my disposal.

Jasper's fighting expertise and the fact that he was gifted himself would have made him an additional prospect were he not an empath. Regrettably, he was, which meant he would be both unpredictable and untrustworthy. He could not be persuaded into loyalty at Chelsea's will because their powers were far too similar, which, from past experience, was found to be counterproductive. As such, I could never be certain of his allegiance. I could not control those whom I could not trust, so I had decided that Alice must join the guard sans Jasper.

Edward's mate—how unbelievable I still found it that he chose to torment himself by loving a human—_she,_ on the other hand, could become a thrilling addition to my collection should my suspicions about her potential prove true. She had all of the characteristics of underdeveloped shielding abilities, though it was peculiar that she was impervious to Edward's gift, yet vulnerable to those of Alice and Jasper because all three gifts were psychological. Usually, shielding was limited to either psychological powers or physical ones, and, in very rare instances, it was unrestricted, so Bella's was a strange case indeed.

Mind, she was still a human; as a vampire, her abilities and defenses will likely enhance considerably, which, while fascinating, was exceptionally troubling, because I had no way of knowing if she would be susceptible to Chelsea's gift or if she would be talented enough to shield herself from it. Hopefully, if I found her soon enough, if Chelsea was able to get to her as a newborn, when her powers were still novel and unfamiliar, then she and Edward would both be able to join us as bound members of the guard and Bella would be able to hone her gifts in the most advantageous setting—for both her and me. And, though it pained me to think it, if she did turn out to be a liability, like Jasper, then I would simply have to make due with Edward.

Then there was the matter of his child, the half-breed, the _wonder. _Never, in all my years, had I heard of a child of such heritage. It was not uncommon for vampires to enjoy sexual liaisons with humans, but, typically, all such relations ended with feasting. The restraint that must have been required to keep the human alive when emotional and instinctual levels were undoubtedly elevated, well, I must say I was rather proud that Edward possessed that amount of control after only a century of practice. It was evidence of a strength that could be very useful to me in future years.

And imagine if some of his gifts were inherited by his child. I refused to become overly optimistic of this possibility, but I could not deny that I was insanely curious. If talents were, by some stroke of good fortune, transmissible, then I would be delighted to see the creative mixture of a telepathist and a shield. And then, once I had learned all there was to know about Edward's son or daughter, I could begin mixing and matching other gifts. Granted, it would be rather unpredictable since the mothers would have to be humans displaying latent talents, but, heavens! I almost began to quiver with delight over the mountain of possibilities that this would present.

Alas, I was getting much too far ahead of myself. For all I knew, the child could be mostly human with no outstanding gifts, and would have to be studied, and then eliminated. For now, I needed to subdue my excitement and focus on the task at hand. All things considered, acquiring Alice and Edward alone should be sufficient, but knowing how difficult it will be to break them of their independence and mated connections was what I needed to concern myself with at present. With that thought in mind, I asked Renata to locate Felix, Chelsea, Jane and Alec and request that they join us in the Laboratorio.

I quickly descended the stairs and entered the Colosseo, surprised that Rosalie made no movements that indicated she was aware of my arrival. "Rosalie, dear," I said softly as I reached her side. She immediately stood and silenced her barely audible crying. "Might I offer my congratulations on your victory? I must say I was hoping you would be able to complete your battles today, as Victoria is also available for a bout, though, if you feel you need some time to rest, I would be more than happy to offer—"

"No!" she shouted, cutting me off. I grinned at how easily it had been to get her strength and determination to return. Obviously, I was not actually going to allow Rosalie and Victoria to fight—_I_ would never lament the loss of Victoria, as she was overly boisterous and difficult to control, but she was a favorite of Caius' and I did not wish to make an enemy of my brother. I did, however, need Rosalie to cease her crying and prepare herself as much as possible for the completely different type of battle she was about to endure. I wanted her to know what was coming and to fight it to the best of her ability. I needed proof that the three guardmembers were, indeed, ready to attempt this feat on Edward and Alice. But first, I needed to get her to the lab.

"Very well then. If you will kindly follow me," I requested and moved toward the door. Her eyes held a tinge of uncertainty, but when I offered my arm, she quickly took it. I led her away from the stench of Tanya's remains and into a nearly hidden section of tunnels. Halfway down the corridor, I turned and knocked softly on a thick, wooden door. It opened almost immediately, and I was pleased to see that everyone else had already arrived. I noticed Rosalie looking around, no doubt puzzling over the ceiling of stadium lights, the large speakers adorning the walls, and the fact that none of the occupants of the room had flowing red hair and an ornery disposition.

She released her hold on my arm and I spoke before she had the chance. "Rosalie, I would like to introduce you to some people that you will come to know quite well in the coming hours." I pointed as I said each person's name, "Jane, her brother, Alec, Chelsea—" I turned toward the door. "And I believe you have already met Felix." She scowled in the direction of the door, indicating that she had, indeed, already aquainted herself with him.

"Now, you must be wondering why you are here," I continued, "so allow me to explain. For centuries I have been doing my best to amass the most diverse collection of gifted vampires that this world has ever known. I consider it an absolute necessity that their talents remain, not owned, but _loyal_ to myself and my brothers, as well as the ideals that we stand for. I often invite select vampires to join us here in Volterra as part of our elite guard, those special individuals who shoulder the responsibility of upholding the rules of our kind. On some occasions, the people I select decline my offer, and I consider it my duty to persuade them to reconsider. Thanks to my Chelsea, I have been successful in _nearly_ all of those attempts. You, dear Rosalie, are going to help us untarnish our record."

I saw her eyes narrow in confusion as I paused and she said, "I don't understand. I have no special gifts. What could you want from me?" She looked slightly scared, but her strength was still evident, and I took that as a positive sign.

"I want you to do what you came here for. I want you to fight." I replied. "We have been working for many years to amplify Chelsea's gift. You see, she has the power to build and break emotional connections. Initially, her power was merely that of an empath. She could sense what people were feeling and alter it at will. But then she found that, along with sensing current emotions, she could also identify stronger, more long-term emotions that were latent to those that were currently being experienced. With time and careful practice, she realized that she was able to pinpoint who or what the emotions were connected to and manipulate them permanently."

Rosalie still appeared confused, so I offered, "For example, at the present moment, you are likely feeling confusion, perhaps a small bit of fear? These are both emotions that could easily be picked up by a normal empath, such as your brother, Jasper. But behind those emotions, you also feel love for your Emmett, anger over his death, and hatred of Victoria for causing it, yes? _Those_ are all things that Chelsea is able to sense, and control." The confusion was gone. Absolute fear had taken its place, but, still, Rosalie stood tall, subconsciously ready to do as I had asked and fight what was coming.

Now, for the final piece of information. "Let us imagine that I wished for your abhorrence of Victoria to disappear and be replaced by respect, or, perhaps, adoration. I would merely have to ask Chelsea, and it could be done. But if I wished to alter your connection to your mate, if I wished for Emmett to become no more important to you than some unknown passerby on the street, well, that would be nigh impossible because the connection of love, pure, unconditional love, is practically impossible to sever." I paused, for no other reason than dramatic effect. "Until now."

I did not look at her to see the emotions cross her face. I knew there would be fear and uncertainty and anger. But I also knew that she would not be weak. She would hold on to her connection to Emmett with every ounce of strength that she possessed, and that was all I that I had asked of her. Felix moved from his position at the door and I opened it to exit the room. "Notify me once she has broken," I called as I stepped into the hallway, and quickly closed the door. All that was left to do now was wait.


	27. IT'S THE FEAR

**When last we met in Forks, Bella had just awakened as a newborn and we found out that she has no memory of anything. We also found out that Charlie has taken her "death" pretty hard and he plans to confront Edward again now that he knows the Cullens have returned to Forks. Oh yes, and those wolves have been ordered NOT to attack unless it can be confirmed that the Cullens have broken the treaty. Let's hear a wee bit from Miss Amnesia Bella, now, shall we? I hope you'll enjoy what is in store. Oh, oh, OH! And reel in your anger and put away your pitchforks until you read the chapter endnotes, please. I would prefer not to be evil-looked to death or attacked by angry monkeys before I have gotten a chance to defend myself, okay? So just...read first and judge later. Please.**

**27 ~ It's the Fear**

"**It waits for the day I will let it out.  
To give it a reason, to give it its might.  
I fear who I am becoming,  
I feel that I am losing the struggle within.  
I can no longer restrain it,  
My strength it is fading,  
I have to give in…  
It's the fear  
Fear of the dark  
It's growing inside of me,  
That one day will come to life.  
Have to save  
To save my beloved,  
There is no escape,  
Because my fate is horror and doom"**

_**It's the Fear **_**by Within Temptation**

**Wednesday, October 12**

_**Bella's POV**_

I knew that the peace couldn't last forever; I just never imagined it would turn out like _this._ Ever since I had experienced those disturbing, abstract images hours upon hours ago, I had managed to escape within myself, within the haze of nothing that my mind had created. I knew that my body was in pain—intense, unbearable pain—but somehow I had managed to shield myself from actually _feeling _it. It was like I was a silent observer, watching from within as my body was transformed into something new, something different and special. From time to time, an external sound or touch would echo on the outskirts of the haze, strong enough that I was aware of its foreign presence, yet too weak to break through the barriers I had constructed to defend myself against the unknown.

I had sought this protection for a reason, but as the hours passed, I found myself unable to recall what that reason had been. Each second that ticked by took with it a piece of my dwindling memory stash, until I realized that I had nothing left to remember. The haze had been successful in drowning out the pain, in numbing my mind from the attack on my body, but it had also managed to obscure everything that had once made me who I was. I tried to remember what was happening to me, why it was happening and, most important of all, who I had been before this change had started to occur. But the more I searched for answers, the more elusive they became. The haze was no longer a safe haven of dark numbness. At some point, it had transformed into a black hole that had consumed everything that I had been holding on to. I became frantic and frightened that if I didn't escape soon, the darkness would manage to swallow me whole, and I, like my memories, would cease to exist.

I fought with all of my might against the field that seemed to be trapping me, cutting off my access to the world outside of myself. I didn't care about feeling the pain anymore. I imagined that anything would be an improvement from feeling nothing and knowing nothing and _being _nothing. I pounded with mental fists, screamed with muted vocal cords, cried without eyes to shed tears. I felt myself slipping away, completely disconnected from my body. I had not wanted this. My intention had been to remain just out of reach until the pain had subsided, and then I had planned to return to my life. This separation of mind and body had lasted for much too long, and I ached to tremble and prickle and _burn_. I yearned, simply, to _feel _again, to _live _again.

And then, suddenly, I did. The haze had disappeared as if it had never existed and I was left, alone, to experience all of the pain I had been missing for the past few days. I felt the burning sensations first, but they were manageable, as they seemed to be gradually moving toward the very edges of my skin, on the verge of finding their pathway up and out of my body. Overshadowing the burning was the throbbing beat of my heart, and it was difficult to cope with the discomfort of the rapid pounding. The pain of the beats was centralized in my chest but it stemmed outward into every nook and cranny of my being. I felt it in the tips of my toes and fingers, in the empty chasm of my stomach and, most disturbingly, in my head. The thumping roar in my ears was a painful contrast to the silence of my haze, but I had no ability to muffle the sound.

Faster and faster the beats continued, and I was certain that my heart would soon burst forth from my chest and fly away because my body could not possibly handle the fiery energy of its pounding much longer. But it never did break free, it merely continued to torture me, and I longed to clutch at my breast and rip out the offending organ with my bare hands so that the throbbing would end. My desires were futile, though, because I couldn't move. I was powerless, but I refused to give up, fighting harder each time the rhythm of my heart picked up its pace until, miraculously, it stopped.

There was silence again, at first, but then I detected the sound of staggered breaths drifting to my ears. They were loud, as if whoever they belonged to had their faces nestled in my hair, their mouths and noses blowing the air of their breaths directly into my ear canal. It made me uncomfortable. I wanted to move away, but I was stranded. Wasn't I? I felt my eyelids flicker and my fingers slowly twitched to life and then my body developed a mind of its own and sprang into action. At first, I feared that I was falling from where I had lain, but, to my astonishment, I landed several feet away from the bed, completely stable as I crouched on the balls of my feet. The stability felt awkward, and the awkwardness was frustrating.

My eyes shot around the room nervously, taking in every microscopic detail of my surroundings. There were three others in this bedroom with me, all of them staring, their ears perked in my direction as they waited in eagerness to hear the first words roll off of my tongue. I _hated _it. I was torn between the desire to run away and hide from their expectant gazes and the pressure building within my trembling limbs that was urging me to _force _them to stop looking at me. I didn't know where it came from, that violent compulsion, but I fought with deep breaths and careful contemplation to overcome it. I may not have known anything about myself, but_ this_, this drive to fight, to _kill_, was not _me._

When I finally felt as though I was in control of myself, my mind went into overdrive wondering what these people could possibly want from me. I had no words of profound wisdom or insight to offer them, no stories of interest to share. All I had were questions, thousands upon thousands of them that floated hither, thither and yon throughout my brain. I found it difficult to focus on any one in particular, but there were a few that repeatedly flashed through my thoughts, demanding attention, so I simply chose one and asked them who they were.

The voice that floated to my ears as the question was posed was calm and melodic, tinkling like a chorus of bells, and my fingers moved to cover my mouth in shock when I realized that the sounds had come from me. Once again, I somehow just _knew_ that the musical voice was not right, not _me_. It was too perfect, too _beautiful_ to be mine. It was a voice that mirrored that of the tiny, angelic girl standing before me, the one who had answered my question by informing me that my name was Bella—the name was completely alien to my ears, but comforting to hear, nonetheless—that we were sisters, and that the others in the room were my family, too.

But that was impossible, wasn't it? Because if they truly were my family, I should remember _something_ about them. Perhaps not every detail of our relationships would be clear, but still, there should at least be _some_ form of natural recognition. My eyes darted back and forth between them, trying to find something, anything that seemed familiar, but there was nothing and I was growing frustrated and distraught and angry once again. I felt like crying and lashing out and disappearing and each differing emotion was tugging within me for control. Everything--the thoughts, the feelings, the expectation—was overwhelming me.

I searched their faces once again, attempting to find something constant, something _real, _to keep me tethered to my sanity. Each of their expressions displayed something different: the older woman looked understanding and compassionate, while the man appeared nervous and hopeful. And my sister—Alice, she had said—vibrated with excitement and frustration and kindness all at the same time. But beneath those various emotions was one sentiment that was present in the very fiber of all of their beings, one feeling that they all openly directed toward me, and that was _love_. Regardless of what I could or could not remember about them, I couldn't deny that they all loved me, and I also couldn't help but trust them.

Still, I started to back away from them, lost and found by their love in the very same moment. I was found because these three beautiful creatures cared for me without the immediate need for reciprocation. And I was lost because, even coming from all three of them, the emotion was puzzlingly insignificant, inadequate, as if something important, or, perhaps, _someone_ important was missing. I was likely just imagining things, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the desire for something more.

As I was retreating, my legs met and effortlessly folded into the leather couch that sat across the room from the bed. It welcomed me like a warm embrace as I fell onto its soft, textured exterior, the force of my body causing the material to crinkle and the discharged air to whoosh around me. _This—_sitting there on this sofa—was the first thing I had experienced since waking that seemed right, almost as if I had done it many times before. I fleetingly wondered if I had, because I felt happy and loved and _safe_ just by sinking into the plush cushions. I deeply inhaled the soothing, sweet scent that surrounded me while my fingertips traced every bump and groove of the surface, as if each dimple might somehow hold the key to unlocking the mystery that had been my life.

There was something about this sofa, this entire _room_, I realized as I gave it another once-over, that was significant. But all of my attempts at straining my mind to recall this place, or these people, or my life before now were unsuccessful. My past remained hidden deep within my brain, provided that the memories still existed at all. I prayed as Alice sat next to me and opened her mouth to share with me the missing pieces of my life that this—a second-hand account of experiences that I couldn't remember—would not be all that I had left. I prayed that someday soon, all of my memories would come rushing back to me and this mess of a situation would just be a distant story to laugh about in the years to come.

Our roles had reversed; it was I who was now waiting in expectation. But just as the words, the clues to my life were milliseconds away from leaving Alice's mouth, her eyes glazed over and she just sat there next to me, unmoving, vacant, as if the spirit that turned her into the bundle of energy I had previously witnessed had momentarily abandoned her body. My eyes widened in confusion and fear as I wondered what was happening to her, but the others seemed unphased by Alice's sudden silence, so I did my best to remain calm until the life once again flickered in her eyes, and I saw the terror that was newly present in them. I knew immediately that I was involved in whatever was frightening her, and I wanted to know everything. I was tired of being in the dark. I wanted answers now, not more questions.

Before I could interrogate her, though, Alice instantly shot off of the couch and leaned her entire head out of the window, watching and listening for something as I barely heard her whisper, "Why now? Of all the times for him to come, why now?" into the breeze. Then there was a crunching sound outside of the house—more unanswered questions running amuck in my brain—and I looked to Alice for an explanation that I never received, because as soon as the sounds reached our ears, she was barking out orders to the man, Conner, demanding that he get me away as quickly as possible.

Based on my initial perception of my family, I definitely would not have pegged little Alice as the leader of this trio, but when she spoke, the very air surrounding her commanded obedience. Within seconds, Conner was smiling at me in reassurance and lacing his fingers in my own, the warmth of his touch surprising me as he pulled me away from my perch on the sofa and led me toward the rear of the room, where the wall was made of aged wood and grand panes of tempered glass that provided breathtaking views of the vast forest beyond the house. In the center of the wall was a door which opened out onto a tiny veranda, and when I stepped onto the wooden planks and looked over the edge, I realized with trepidation that we were on the third floor of the house, and that Conner's movements indicated he was planning to jump from the ledge.

I drew back, attempting to remove my hand from his grasp and wondering how I got stuck with the insane member of the family, because there was no way in hell that any rational being would attempt to lure me to my death off of a third story balcony. "Come on, Bella. You can do this," he urged, inching me closer and closer to the edge. I furiously shook my head and tried to make my way back to the safety of the room. "Bella, please," he begged. "We have to go now. You can handle this jump. You just have to let go of your fears and take a leap of faith. I'll be there every step of the way. I promise," he said. And—God help me if I was wrong—I believed him. So I held on tightly to his hand, closed my eyes, and we jumped.

My body sliced through the air as I clung to Conner's hand and when I felt my feet touch the ground seconds later, I was still grimacing and bracing myself for the pain that was sure to come. I heard the musical notes of his laughter ringing through the air as his free fingers trailed down my scrunched up cheek and he said, "You can open your eyes now, Bella." I opened them, one at a time, and I felt a smile lighting up my face as I realized that I was still in one piece. I was perfect, no, I was better than perfect. I felt invincible, and the feeling was exhilarating and magical. Conner's eyes twinkled like golden stars as he watched the excitement overtake me.

"What _are_ we?" I asked, still smiling like a fool as all of the questions about my life became trivial and were replaced by ponderings of what other amazing things I could now do.

His smile tightened slightly as he replied, "We're vampires, Bella." My eyes widened in alarm at his statement and my body became rigid and tense as my mind was overrun with images of bright white fangs and wooden stakes and burning sunlight. Noting the changes in my demeanor, he quickly continued, "But don't worry. Our family—we're not like the storybook monsters. And most of the time, being what we are is," he paused, searching for the proper words and then continued, "Pretty amazing, actually." He squeezed my palm and said, "I'll answer all of your questions soon. But for now, I want to show you another one of our abilities. Run with me?"

I nodded in consent and we were off, running toward the forest as if we were latched onto the very breeze that wildly blew the branches to and fro. I felt his hand release mine as we leapt over the small river that separated the expansive lawn from the trees, and, while I temporarily mourned the loss of his touch, I relished in the ability to test the limitations of my body. The beautiful golds and coppers of the autumn leaves passed by in a blur as my legs carried me faster and faster, further and further into the forest. I couldn't help the laughter that rumbled from my chest because I felt so _free_. I heard Conner's rapid footsteps trailing behind me and decided to stop and allow him to catch up to me, reveling in the realization that I was faster.

The beaming smile that was on his face as he reached me was heavenly. I felt a stirring in my stomach as he stood before me, trailing his fingertips down my cheek. My head instinctively curved into his touch, and all I could do was stare into his bliss-filled eyes and wonder. His actions were so affectionate, so _intimate_, and I found myself trying fruitlessly to remember what Conner had meant to me in my life before the fire. As I was thinking on it, Conner backed away slightly and began to speak.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions about all of this," he motioned to himself and to me, "so I'll tell you as much as I am able. We are vampires in the sense that we subsist on a diet of blood." I cringed and he continued, "But, unlike the majority of our species, our family has found a way to do so without harming innocent people. We feed on the blood of animals, and make our best effort to live amongst the humans without revealing to them that we are different. Sometimes, our instincts make it difficult for us to abstain from drinking human blood, but we fight the temptation because we are all trying to retain the shreds of humanity that carried over from our lives before the change."

My mouth began to salivate as he spoke of drinking blood and I was painfully aware of a dry, burning sensation in the back of my throat. I tried to swallow, to coat my parched throat and make the aching subside, but it remained. I then attempted to shift my body's focus to the questions zipping around in my brain, hoping that if I stopped thinking about the soreness, it would disappear. I cut off Conner's lesson in vampirism to ask, "So we were all humans at one point? How did we become vampires then? Why did I become one? And how do we drink from animals? Is that what Alice meant when she said we should hunt? What does it taste like? Is it—" He held up his hand and smiled, wordlessly asking me to pause.

"Yes, we were all humans, Bella. Up until three days ago, _you _were a human. But you were bitten by a vampire, just as all the rest of us were, and as the venom of the bite entered your system, it began to attack the cells of your body and change them into something different, change you into one of us." He took a deep breath and looked away from me as he revealed a shocking tidbit about my life. "You were changed, Bella, because you would have died otherwise, and none of us could bear to lose you." I was taken aback by his admission, my questions increasing tenfold in my mind. Was I sick? Was I in an accident? What had happened to me that I was on the brink of death? And how did all of that tie in with the vampires, with my _family? _Were they truly related to me in some way? And if not, where was my _real_ family? I wanted to ask him all of these things and more, but when I looked at his expression, when I saw his sadness and his uncertainty, I snapped my mouth shut and decided it could wait. I took a few steps in his direction, intending to comfort him, but when he whipped his gaze to me and continued his responses detachedly, I stopped in my tracks.

"We drink from animals just as any other predator would: we use our senses and hunt them. Their blood tastes—satisfying, in a way, but there is always that instinctive pull toward our natural diet. And you need to stay aware of that, Bella, because it will be especially hard for you to resist feeding on humans for a long while. You are what we refer to as a newborn, which means that, like a newborn child, you will react to situations based primarily upon your emotions and innate desires. At this moment, you have a sound mind that allows you to govern right from wrong, but your mind, as a newborn, can often be overruled by the drives of your body.

We will all do our best to prevent you from doing anything that you will regret, but you have a slight advantage over us because a vampire's peak phase of strength and speed is as a newborn. We are all powerful and swift, but for the next year or so, you will be stronger and faster than the best of us. That means we have to take care to not put you in situations of temptation until you are in control enough to overcome the pull of your instincts." He paused and stepped closer to me, taking my hands in his and squeezing them tightly. He pleadingly stared into my eyes and said, "Please try to always remember that we have your best interests at heart, Bella, and that you should listen to us when we ask you to do something, even if it makes no sense to you at the time, because we are trying to protect you."

A memory from the bedroom earlier, with Alice ordering us to leave, flashed into my thoughts, and I instantly recognized the connection. "So, before, when Alice told us to leave, that's what you're talking about now? What was I in danger from then? Why did we have to go?" I couldn't remember anything from that moment that indicated I was about to lose control, and the fact that I had been on the verge of being told about my life had me slightly put out that we were forced to leave so abruptly.

"Alice is very _special_, Bella. Some vampires, in addition to the main abilities that we all possess, have special powers that are much more unique. Alice is one of the gifted ones. She has the ability to subjectively view the future." I looked at him with raised eyebrows, the skepticism written all over my face. He laughed, his eyes twinkling once again, and said, "You don't have to take my word for it. She'll prove herself to you when we return to the house. But what happened today, when her eyes became glassy and she just sort of disappeared for a moment—that was what she does when she has one of her visions. And whatever she saw indicated that you and I needed to leave, so that's what we did. You may not remember her right now, Bella, so I'm going to offer you some advice: always listen to her when it comes to making choices about your future because if you don't, you will likely regret it for the rest of your life."

The light-heartedness of the conversation had shifted to complete seriousness toward the end, and I wondered what information was hidden within Conner's words. There was so much that he was saying without saying, so many secrets that I wanted him to open up and reveal to me. But, again, before I could ask him, he changed the topic of conversation. "We should hunt now. I'm sure your throat is scorching and it's been nearly two weeks since my last meal." As soon as he mentioned my throat, the fire flared up and I felt the saliva—no, I corrected myself, the venom—dripping in my mouth. The idea of hunting down wild animals seemed strange in my mind, but I found my body trembling in fervent anticipation.

"First, I want you to close your eyes and take a deep breath. You will smell every single scent that is surrounding you—the flowers, the trees, the water from the river we crossed—but out of all them, you will find some that cause the burning sensation you feel in the back of your throat to strengthen. Can you sense them?"

I did as he asked and closed my eyes, inhaling a deep breath and sifting through the plethora of scents to find those that fanned the fire in my throat. I found a few that made the burning worse, but the sensation was manageable with each of them. I nodded my head and Conner continued, "Once you have isolated one of the scents, I want you to focus on it, and allow your senses to lead you to it. But Bella," he grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him, and as I looked into his eyes, I saw they were filled with concern. "What you smell now are the scents of the forest animals—deer, rabbits, bears. They probably make the burning uncomfortable, but you can handle it, you can control yourself.

As far as I can tell, there are no humans around for miles, but I want you to stay with me anyway. Because the moment you sense one, you will lose every ounce of control that you now possess. The burning in your throat will become a raging inferno and it will spread to your entire body until your every action is overtaken by the need to fulfill a single goal—extinguishing the fire. And the only way to do that, to completely satisfy the urge, is to drain every last drop of the human's blood. Rational thought will no longer exist, and you _will_ kill someone, even if right now you are certain that you couldn't possibly be capable of that. So please, promise me that you won't break away from me." His words frightened me and I agreed without the need for thought. The last thing I ever wanted to experience was the guilt I knew I would feel if I ever hurt or—God forbid—killed some unlucky stranger.

Conner grabbed my hand and gave it a quick peck before he smiled and said, "Thank you. Now, are you ready?"

I drew in a deep breath and eyed him with curiosity as I said, "Absolutely." I was ready, but not just for the hunting experience. I was ready for some answers, and I decided that as soon as we were through with our food, I was going to somehow persuade Conner to stop dodging and distracting me every time I was about to ask him for the details of my life. Somehow, I was going to find out the truth about my past, about how I had almost died and how, exactly, I was related to the vampires I had met, more specifically, how I was related to _him_.

For the time being, though, I allowed myself to forget about my past and submit to my senses as I searched the forest for my first prey. Once I surrendered to my instincts, the hunt was actually quite simple. I followed the scent and it led me to a small herd of grazing deer. I lunged toward a doe as if I had done so a thousand times before, my arms wrapping around her neck and wrestling her to the ground as my teeth sank in, slicing through the fur and the flesh until I felt the warmth of her crimson blood flowing over my tongue and running down my throat. I sucked and drank all of the fluid from her body as Conner did the same right next to me, and then we repeated the process again and again, each time becoming easier than the last.

Finally, after we had each feasted on two deer, one moose, and a shared black bear, I decided that I couldn't partake in any more blood without bursting. I rubbed my stomach and smiled as I watched Conner sucking the last of the red liquid from the bear's crescent-shaped wound. When he finished, he caught me staring at him, and his eyes practically started dancing with delight. He stood quickly and moved in my direction, but I laughed and ran from him, keeping a pace that I knew he could hold, just in case I needed him to save me from myself.

I wove in and out of trees, gleefully laughing the entire time until he lunged at me and we both went tumbling to the ground, rolling through the fallen leaves and coming to a stop in a grassy meadow. We both lay on the ground for a few moments, breathing heavily and staring into each other's eyes, each of us waiting for the other to break the trance we seemed to be caught in.

Conner moved first, his index finger tracing my chin and moving upward toward my mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. My lips parted slightly at his touch, and I found myself swimming in a sea of unfamiliar emotions, drowning in the mixture of lust and desire and uncertainty. "You missed some," he said softly, raggedly as the tip of his finger grazed my tongue and I tasted blood. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, and milliseconds later, his lips touched mine as his hand snaked around my neck and he drew me closer to him. I felt his tongue trace the outline of my lips before it slipped inside of my mouth and began to tangle itself around my own. The trembling began in the nether region of my body before slowly spreading to every other part of me, and I knew that I was on the precipice of losing control, of succumbing to my body's natural response. I refused to let my control completely slip away before I got some answers.

I drew back and looked into his eyes, which were filled to the brim with love and adoration and _possession_. "Conner," I said, "Are you in love with me?"

He immediately smiled and pushed a fallen strand of my hair behind my ear as he responded, "I fall in love with you more and more each and every day, Bella."

I nodded in acceptance and drew in my own shaky breath before asking the next question. "And, am I in love with you?" Wait, that came out wrong. My brain was still battling the trembling sensation and my thoughts were becoming muddled. "Before, I mean. Was I—were we—_together_?"

His brow was furrowed and he seemed to be deep in thought, trying to figure out how to answer me. After a few seconds of contemplation, his indecision cleared and he said, "Bella, I don't know exactly how you felt about me before you were changed. All I know is how I feel about you." He let out a deep breath and finished, "And how I hope you will come to feel about me." He smiled in anticipation and his face began inching closer and closer until his lips ghosted over mine, but then he started to draw back. I knew what this was; he was leaving it up to me to decide whether we would continue what we had started.

I felt the connection between my mind and body snap almost instantly and I pulled Conner's face to mine and began kissing him, drinking him in as if my body needed him as desperately as it needed blood. My trembling hands found their way to the buttons of his shirt, but instead of taking the time to undo each one, I gripped the two halves and ripped them apart, the tattered remnants of cloth falling to the ground next to where we lay. I felt his fingers making a slow path toward the bottom of my own shirt and I lifted myself off of the ground so that he could remove it.

Before he drew it upward, though, a rustling sound in the surrounding brush caused both of us to freeze. All of my senses were on high-alert as I listened, waiting to hear the sound again. My eyes locked with Conner's for a brief moment and then we were both upright, searching our surroundings for any indication of who or what had interrupted us. I scanned every direction frantically, the fear steadily creeping up my spine when my sweep revealed nothing. I looked to Conner, my mouth opened and poised to speak, when I realized that he was staring at something. I followed his gaze and saw it then, saw _them—_three pairs of dark, glaring eyes hidden behind the mess of low-hanging branches. As I stared in their direction, one pair of them moved ever-so-slightly, causing a few of the surrounding auburn leaves to rustle and fall to the ground.

My breathing stopped and Conner, his eyes widened in shock and terror, urgently whispered, "Bella, run." I didn't need him to tell me twice. I turned and ran, propelling myself forward at speeds I didn't realize I was capable of until right then. I heard Conner's familiar stride behind me, and three new, frightening footfalls behind him. As I ran, my mind was filled yet again. But this time, it was the same question running rampant inside my brain: when you become the monster that you used to fear, what is left in this world for you to be afraid of?

I didn't know the answer and at that moment, I wasn't sure that I cared. Because whatever the answer was, it was following us as we raced through the forest, matching our pace step for step. Earlier, Conner and I had been the mighty predators, and I had felt fearless. Now I felt sympathy for the animals we had killed, because now, I knew what it felt like to be the prey.


	28. HOW IT ENDS

**We are back in Italy for this chapter, hearing from Edward and one evilwhorebitch more often known as Victoria. Last we all knew on the Italy side of Farewell, Rosalie had just put the smackdown on Tanya, and she was feeling slightly less than satisfied when Tanya finally went up in a puff of flames and left planet Earth, Aro was busy with his evil plan to control Edward and Alice, using Rosalie as his own little lab rat, and Caius and Victoria were hatching their own plan to see the Cullens crash and burn. Edward was taking steps toward the Volturi lair and trying to escape all of the feelings and sensations that he was walking toward his doom. I think that should about cover it. Yup yup.**

**Special thanks to the following super awesome readers who give me much love and smiles during my times of uncertainty: notmyself, saavypunk, randigiles, crooked smile, and annetted. Every single one of you deserves their own personal Edward slave for a day. If I could make it happen, trust me, I would, as long as I got one, too :) **

**28 ~ How It Ends**

"…**in your heart  
You know it to be true  
You know what you gotta do  
They all depend on you…  
There is no escape  
From the slave catcher's songs  
For all of the loved ones gone  
Forever's not so long  
And in your soul  
They poked a million holes  
But you never let them show  
Come on its time to go  
And you already know  
Yet you already know  
How this will end…****"**

_**How It Ends **_**by Devotchka**

**Wednesday, October 12**

_**Edward's POV**_

I walked toward the great room like a criminal toward the gallows. I had attempted, at first, to hold my head up high, to hold true to the promise I had made to myself only moments before: that I would remain strong and fight to survive the debacle that I had allowed my life to become. But with every step that I drew closer to joining in the presence of the Volturi leaders, the men that I had been taught to fear and distrust from the onset of my change, my head drooped further and further forward until my dark eyes affixed themselves to the stone floor.

It wasn't that I lacked the strength of will to live—far from it, in fact. The idea of returning to Bella and our daughter, of making a future with them, provided ample motivation for me to muster up all of my existing courage and fight this battle. But this place, the very atmosphere of it, seemed to exaggerate my fears and amplify my weaknesses. It confirmed in my head the painful notion that, no matter what I did, I would fail. Try as I might, I could not pinpoint the external source that had been assaulting me, until the massive wooden door creaked open, I found the courage to lift my head, and my eyes touched upon the three men that held my fate in their hands.

As soon as I saw them, I recognized the new, invisible _presence _that I had been sensing in the hallway_, _the charge of tension in the air that penetrated the pores of my skin and wrapped itself around my silent heart. Just like the men that sat before me, it was ruthless and hateful. It fed off of the terror of those who had walked this same path, those who had sinned, those who knew they were moments away from condemnation. It demanded submission at all costs. It was _power _and it was waiting, waiting for the opportune moment to punish me, torture me, _manipulate_ me. Its invisible eyes scrutinized my every movement as I followed Carlisle's lead and approached the ancient vampires; it searched endlessly for my Achilles heel, trying to find the one major threat that would always break me down.

I swallowed and shook my head briefly to clear my thoughts. I needed to focus, to stop allowing my mind free reign to form illusions and sensations and doubts. It was likely, and understandable, that simple paranoia was setting in, but regardless of the source, I could not keep myself from trembling.

"Welcome, old friend," the ebony-haired man said as he stood from his chair in the center of the three and approached Carlisle, his hand outstretched for a customary shake. Carlisle nodded and smiled in greeting, reluctantly placing his own palm in the one offered by his former acquaintance. For a few moments, my father's thoughts disappeared from my mind, and I knew that we had been greeted by Aro, the Volturi vampire gifted with the ability to discern one's every thought in a single touch.

As soon as Carlisle's hand was released, I attempted to invade Aro's thoughts, to gauge the level of danger we were in, but I found them guarded, and that terrified me. It not only meant that Aro was aware of _my _gift, but also that he was hiding something. I continued my attempts to break through his blockades with renewed determination as he spoke to Carlisle. "I would ask to what we owe the pleasure of your visit, but I imagine that it has something to do with the arrival of your daughter yesterday, and the unfortunate news that you have been keeping company with a human child. Tisk, tisk," he said, though his tone of reprimand seemed mocking rather than serious or risky.

I felt it was my time to speak up, to take responsibility for the decision that was placing us in danger, so I said, "Please, sir, if I may, I would like to claim liability for the human girl becoming a part of our lives." All eyes were on me as I spoke, and I noticed Aro's lips turn upwards with the hint of a smile as he listened to my words. I drew closer to him and continued, "Bella—the human you speak of—we fell deeply in love with each other. She wanted to become like us, to join us for eternity, to protect us, but for the longest time, I denied her request."

I paused, wanting to protect my daughter, but knowing that I had to be forthcoming with information if I was to make the Volturi believe what I knew to be the truth—that we were not a danger to their way of life. I took a deep breath and thought of Emmalie, of her sparkling eyes and her laughter, and I resumed, "I know it was wrong in the eyes of our laws, but I cannot bring myself to regret my choice to wait because Bella and I have recently been blessed with a daughter. She is half human, but her similarities to our kind in diet and intelligence are profound. She is growing quickly, but even in her youthful state, she is able to understand the importance of discretion regarding humans.

And her mother, my dear Bella, is, as we speak, changing into one of us. In less than a day's time, perhaps even already, she will be a newborn vampire, and I will have effectively counteracted the laws that were once broken. Now that you have been made aware of the recent events of our lives, I beg of you, please allow Carlisle, Rosalie and myself to return home and continue our lives in peace. We are not a threat to you, or any others of our kind. We simply want to return to those who love us and enjoy our lives as best we can."

I drew nearer to Aro and held out my hand, finishing my plea by stating, "After all that has happened, I do not expect you to take my word on faith alone. Please, take my hand and see for yourself that every word I have spoken is the truth." Aro's eyes fell to my outstretched palm, and then lifted to meet my eyes once again. His smile became blinding as his fingers encircled my wrist, and I felt the invasion of my thoughts as soon as it began.

He started at the very beginning, sorting out the blurred details of my remembered human life and then rapidly sifting through every memory I had ever possessed. Carlisle had warned me of what this would feel like, but nothing was as he had described. My mind was not blank and hazy. I did not feel confused or disjointed. Instead, it seemed that my own gift was connecting itself with Aro's. I saw my memories just as he saw them; I stood motionless as my secrets and my fears and my dreams were extracted from the far recesses of my mind. As the flashes moved closer and closer to the present, they came slower until, suddenly, they stopped and I felt the pressure alleviate from my mind and my forearm at precisely the same moment.

I blinked rapidly for a few seconds, adjusting to the dim light of the great room and wondering how long I had been immobilized by Aro's presence in my head. He was still smiling as he looked at me and this time when I attempted to detect his thoughts, his mind was open.

_Edward, can you hear me? _he was repeating, and I tilted my head in confusion before answering his question with a single nod. _Splendid. First, let me say that your story was most captivating and I am awed by your ability to maintain a relationship, particularly a physical one, with a human whose blood so strongly sings for you. It is obvious that you love Bella, and the rest of your family, very much, so I am confident that you will have the good sense to listen to the choice that I am so graciously about to offer you._

_If you will look to your left, you will see that, while I was perusing your memories, I had your sister join us. She is unharmed and I am completely willing to allow both her and your father to return to their happy little lives, so long as you agree to remain in Volterra and accept your rightful place among our elite guard. _I stood ramrod straight as his thoughts passed through my mind, and instinctively moved to shake my head, refusing his offer. I was not destined to serve the Volturi. My future was in Forks, with Bella, with our daughter and the rest of our family.

_Perhaps I wasn't making myself clear. You __**will**__ stay here and join us. The offer that is up for discussion is what will become of your family if you choose to make this difficult. I can guarantee you that if you agree to stay now, if you are loyal and do not fight with us, I will immediately give the order to release Carlisle and Rosalie and they can return to their lives unharmed._

_But if you deny my request for your allegiance, my order will be for their execution, and once they have turned to ashes, I will send out the guard to finish off the remainder of your family. One by one, they will die. Your siblings, your mother, your mate, your daughter, every single person that you love will perish, and it will be your fault. But you, you will survive, you will live to experience the pain of this one poor choice._

My mind was still reeling from the images his silent words had conjured when he spoke aloud for all to hear. "Edward, your gift is quite intriguing. I believe I speak for all of us here when I say that you would be a welcomed addition to the guard. What do you say? Will you join us?" I stood before him in silence, unable to produce a coherent thought, let alone transmit said thoughts to audible words. I looked to my father, noting the slight shake of his head and the confusion that was reflected in his eyes as he met my gaze.

Then my head whipped back to Aro as he thought _The clock is ticking, Edward. It's all up to you. _An image passed from his thoughts to mine, a moving picture of a pale-skinned vampire with thick, mahogany locks and crimson lips that smiled as she looked at me and breathed my name. Her identity was undeniable; it was my Bella, my precious Bella, only her natural beauty had been enhanced by her change into one of us. Then the image shifted and her golden eyes were widened in fear as she clutched our little girl to her breast and backed away from her attackers. The cloaked figures were coming at her from all sides, though, and, within seconds, she was surrounded, standing amidst a bed of kindling.

I heard a swipe and click; I could almost smell the sulfur as one of the faceless guards emerged from the group, striking a match before dropping it to the ground and studying the flames that began to engulf the firewood encircling Bella's feet. I watched as the lone guard member lowered her hood, instantly recognizing her wavy red hair and wicked smile. Her gaze rested beyond Bella and the fire, and I followed her line of sight until I saw myself standing outside the circle of guard members, writhing and fighting against the men who were holding me captive, cursing and growling and screaming at them to let me go, to let me save the woman I loved and our beautiful child. The flames grew higher and I heard Bella's screams, but above that sickening sound, I heard the evil trill of Victoria's laughter.

The vision disappeared and I was brought back to the present, back to the great room and the choice that I had been offered. It wasn't a choice, really, in fact, it had never been. Aro had known of my one true weakness before I had ever set foot in Volterra, and, from the start, he had planned to use it against me. He knew that I would never risk Bella's life, or my child's, or any of my family's. I was at his mercy, and all I could do was hope that he would adhere to his word, and take my loyalty in exchange for my family's future.

"Alright, Aro," I replied in monotone. "I'd be honored to join the guard."

"Edward?" I heard Carlisle whisper, while he continued in his mind with _What are you doing? You don't have to stay. Did he threaten you? This was a mistake. We never should have come._

I blocked his frantic words from my mind as I walked to him and enveloped him in a hug before I backed away and said, "Take care of everyone, Carlisle. Tell Emmie that I will love her always. And tell Bella, tell her—" My voice was shaking with my words and when I said her name it cracked and I drew in a sharp breath before I found that I could no longer speak at all. I looked into my father's eyes, trying to convey the words that I couldn't say as my lips quivered and I cleared my throat to quash the sob that was building in my chest.

Carlisle nodded and thought _I'll tell them, son. I know this isn't what you want. I know he is probably telling you that he will destroy everything you love if you don't agree to stay. And I know that his threats are not empty; he is vile and heartless and will do anything to get what he wants, so I will go now with Rosalie because none of us will survive if we don't leave now. But, Edward, I'm not giving up on you. No matter what, you will always be my son, and I'll find a way to bring you home to us, where you belong. I love you, son._

"I love you, too," I whispered. I watched as Carlisle turned and wrapped his arm around Rosalie, who had not spoken or thought or seemingly even felt a thing throughout this entire ordeal. I wondered what they had done to her, and what they planned to do to me.

Everyone began exiting the great room until it was only Aro, myself and a surprisingly young-looking girl who were left to stand in silence. As I was assessing the girl and attempting to penetrate her thoughts, I heard Aro say, "Shall we begin?" The girl nodded, and stared into my eyes. Her scarlet irises were the last things I saw before a searing pain shot through my body and I dropped to the floor, clutching my head and screaming in agony.

_**Victoria's POV**_

Caius had left my quarters not long after we had ended our lengthy discussion of the Cullen Family Slaughter, as I had lovingly nicknamed our plan to kill every last one of those human-loving bastards. Under better circumstances, the humorous title would have brought a brilliant smile to my face and filled me with excitement, but, try as I might, I couldn't bring myself to feel anything but frustration, and my face had been set in a static scowl for hours as I paced my room and continually reminded myself that Aro would have my ass barbecued faster than I could blink if I offed Rosalie without permission and then went after his _precious_ Edward. I growled and punched the nearest hard surface every time thoughts of him crossed my mind, and when my walls were in danger of full-blown destruction, I decided that some fresh air and a nice meal would do my body—and my private room—a whole lot of good.

The day passed swiftly into night as I feasted on three delicious, unsuspecting humans, all of their deaths as drawn out and excruciating as I could make them because I had decided that if I was suffering, so, too, would they. Every pained scream that exited their throats brought me comfort, and as the sun fell below the distant horizon and my stomach was sated with the warmth of human blood, I felt calmer and confident enough in my abilities to return to my home and pretend that I didn't want to rip out Aro's tongue and beat him with it for suggesting that I "make nice" with Edward simply because the asshole's gift had made him some sort of collector's item.

I really didn't give a flying fuck if Edward could cause people to spontaneously combust with a single thought—he had killed James and, one way or another, Aro was just going to have to learn how to survive without Edward and his "treasured" gift. Caius had admonished me to be patient, and I had given my word that I would not make any rash decisions, but as I reached the hidden doors that led to the main hallway of the Volturi lair, Edward's scent drifted into my nostrils and my control began to steadily slip away. My feet followed his sickening stench of their own volition, my lips curling back over my teeth and my fists clenching at my sides as my brain got in the passenger seat and allowed my instincts, my _rage_, to drive me onward, toward Edward, toward satisfaction.

I was met with opposition as soon as I reached the door to the great room. "Move," I quietly snarled, not wanting to alert the inhabitants of the room beyond the door to my presence.

"No can do, _Vicki_," the cloaked man said contemptuously, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest, blocking the wooden entryway with his over-sized body. "Aro's orders. No one goes in or out until he gives the word. Apparently—"

"Felix, I told you to move," I said through clenched teeth. "And if you call me Vicki one more time, I will bite off your tongue again, and this time, I'll burn it like the trash it talks instead of giving it back to you." His arms uncrossed and he held out his hands defensively; he obviously remembered what had happened the last time he had abandoned his verbal filter and pissed me off—I believe it took him five days of body part scavenger hunting to finally put his mangled self back together. Considering how angry he had made me, I thought I had been rather generous with him then, and I didn't plan on letting him off so easy this time if he didn't remove himself from my warpath within the next minute.

"Christ, Victoria, who shoved a stick up your ass this morning?" he said, attempting a jest that I was in no mood for. My fists twitched at my sides, barely resisting the temptation to physically force him to move but I inhaled deeply, reminding myself that my main quarrel was not with Felix, despite the fact that he obviously still needed to learn when to shut the hell up.

I knew that it would be an unnecessary waste of my energy to completely dismantle the peebrained ogre that stood before me, but I decided to mess with his head as I spoke again. "I am going to give you ten seconds to move out of my way, Felix, before you start losing appendages." My hand shot out and clenched around his manhood as I continued, "And I know just which tiny little piece of you I am going to rip off first. Ten. Nine. Eight. Sev—"

"Victoria, please. I can't—" Before Felix could finish his begging, the door swung open behind him and Caius stepped quickly into the hallway, his eyes filling with rage and disappointment as he looked at me.

His hand gripped my upper arm as he led me away from Felix without uttering so much as a word, and I never once fought his grasp as we made our way to my room and stepped inside. As soon as the door closed behind us, Caius whirled around and came nose to nose with me as he spat out, "Did I not specifically tell you to stay away from the Cullens if and when they arrived here?" My voice snagged in my throat, so I nodded in response to his question. "And did you not give me your word that you would control yourself around them and wait for the opportune moment to punish them, _all _of them?" Again, I nodded the affirmative. "Then, pray you, explain to me why, when I exited the great room, I found you lurking outside the door, picking a fight with that imbecile guard as if you had every intention of bursting into the room and attacking Edward Cullen."

"I'm sorry, Caius, I just lost my head. I don't know what came over me," I began, my apologies surprisingly sincere. I hung my head in shame and I heard his heavy breath leave him in a sigh before he spoke again, his tone noticeably softer.

"Need I remind you that you are already in a precarious situation when it comes to your status within the guard? Being in my good graces would not have been enough to displace Aro's anger had you followed through with your plans moments ago. He seems even more smitten with his newest conquest than he was previously and, I can assure you, he would have ordered your immediate execution if you had entered the great room." He paused, taking a deep breath as he backed away from me slightly and lifted my fallen chin so that I could look him in the eye. "We must be most careful to maintain a front of support for Aro, especially now that I have learned some interesting information about his future plans. If we remain patient and allow my brother's twisted game to run its course, he will lead us exactly where we need to be to carry out our own desires."

My curiosity flared and I asked, "What, exactly, is Aro planning?" I saw Caius narrow his eyes, uncertain if he should share his knowledge with me since I had once again betrayed his trust. "Please, Caius," I pleaded. "Part of the reason why I found it so difficult to suppress the desire to kill Edward as soon as I sensed him here was because our plans before were so basic. Perhaps if I have details of what is to come, if their deaths seem more concrete, more _imaginable, _then I will be better able to control myself as I wait."

After a few moments of silence and assessment, Caius must have decided to trust me again, because he began to speak. "You are aware of Chelsea's gift, are you not?"

I nodded and replied, "She can sense and manipulate emotional connections. Why?"

"Well, Chelsea's talents are a bit more advanced than most guard members realize. In fact, if it were not for her, I am certain that most of your gifted comrades would not be with us here in Volterra obediently following Aro's every command." I narrowed my eyes in confusion as he continued, "There are many here who, upon Aro's invitation, were not thoroughly convinced that being a member of the guard was their eternal path, and yet, they all eventually joined us here. Does that not strike you as odd?" I pondered over his words for a moment, remembering all of the instances he spoke of, all of the times when Aro set his sights on a conquest that denied him, only to find that same individual cloaked and awaiting orders within a matter of days. I supposed it had crossed my mind as being a bit strange from time to time, but I had never really given it much thought.

"Aro befriended Chelsea many centuries ago, and, together, they discovered that she was able to use her gift to sever people's connections to their own covens and replace them with an unwavering, _permanent_ allegiance to Aro and our coven here in Volterra." Interesting. It appeared that the majority of the famous Volturi Elite were nothing more than drones, manipulated into subservience by a power-hungry fool and his eager-to-please mistress. I wasn't angered by this new information because I was not one of Aro's brainwashed soldiers, made obvious by the fact that I detested him for his predilection of the gifted, or, more specifically, of Edward. Still, I found myself wondering how the rest of the guard would feel if it was revealed that they were not in control of their own destinies. As the thoughts spun round within my mind, Caius continued, "There was one type of bond that was too strong for Chelsea's talents, however, and that was the love that is shared between mates. Aro found ways around that obstacle, as well, but it has always bothered him that Chelsea's gift was not omnipotent.

He spent many years working with her, trying to strengthen her powers, and, just yesterday, she was successful for the first time in altering a mated connection. Aro is most eager to replicate his little experiment on Edward, now that he has conveniently arrived in Volterra. Edward has already agreed to remain here in exchange for the release of Carlisle and Rosalie," I gasped and sneered at this revelation as Caius continued, "And it is likely that Chelsea will succeed in removing Edward's emotional connection to his mate, replacing it with a fierce loyalty to Aro.

If I have learned one thing about my brother over the years, though, it is that his appetite for power will linger. He will be pleased that Edward has joined us, but he will not be satisfied until he has also acquired the Cullen's psychic, Alice. When Demetri sends word of where all of Carlisle's coven can be located, I will suggest to Aro that we arrange a journey to the Cullen's doorstep, and, once he realizes that he can use the trip to seize Alice, he will eagerly agree to it. We will take as many guardsmen as can make the trip, and then my dear Aro will be made to realize that there are certain limitations to Chelsea's gift of which even she is not aware. Fortunately for us, I know all about them, and I fully intend to use that knowledge to our advantage."

Caius' wicked smile brought about a mirroring expression on my own face, but I still felt the need for more information, so I asked, "How is it that you know so much about Chelsea's strengths and weaknesses? I never knew you to have an interest in the sordid details of the gifted."

His smile slowly died, and I fleetingly wondered if I had overstepped my bounds. Then he said, "Sit down, child, and let me give you some little known details about the history of our kind." He held out his palm, inviting me to seat myself next to him on my velveteen sofa. I sat, curling my legs up beneath me so that I could get comfortable, because I could tell from past experience that Caius had taken on the role of storyteller.

"Long ago, vampires were ruled by a system similar to that which we have created here in Volterra, with the exception that the rulers and guardsmen hailed from Romania and were not as skilled at maintaining order as my brothers and I have managed to be. The wild legends that the humans have formulated to explain our existence were largely created during the centuries of Romanian rule because of the fact that vampires from that age were uncivilized and, too often, revealed themselves to humans that then lived to pass on their horrifying experiences to their townsfolk and families. We had nothing to fear from their knowledge, until a few intelligent members of their species came to realize our single weakness: fire.

We were hunted and, while very few of us actually perished at the hands of our intended prey, some of us came to realize that it might be prudent for us to live only in the shadows, for our existence to become nothing more than a myth in the eyes of the humans, passed down from generation to generation and gaining less and less credibility as time progressed. Aro and I traveled to Romania with the intent of overthrowing our rulers and rising to power so that we could see our vision of a more structured, and secretive, lifestyle come to pass.

We were not so naïve in our youth to think that our desires could be carried out immediately; instead we arrived under the guise of allies, and promised our loyalty to the Romanian leaders. We were there less than a week, learning as much as we could about the rulers we wished to destroy when _she _returned." Caius took a long pause, and I began to wonder if he had any intention of continuing his story. His silence made me uncomfortable, so I lowered my hand to his forearm and gently squeezed, offering him the support that he seemed to need.

He raised his eyes to mine and quietly continued, "Her name was Camelia, and she was the sister of one of the Romanian leaders. As soon as I laid eyes on her, I was smitten, and I got the notion stuck within my mind that we were destined to be together, despite our opposing allegiances. As time passed, I became less focused on my original goals with my brother and spent every hour of my existence attempting to win Camelia's heart.

One night, as we lay beneath the stars and the moonlight, Camelia whispered that she loved me, and opened up to me about her life…and her gift. She said that she was unhappy, that she was tired of being used by her brother to manipulate people into loyalty, and I was so blinded by my love for her that I believed every word, every _lie_ that left her mouth.

Against Aro's advice—I had never told him of Camelia's gift, so he simply saw her as an untrustworthy enemy—I made the decision to be honest with her about why I was in Romania and to ask for her help with our plan to overthrow the Romanian rulers. She agreed to help us, to shift the guard's allegiance to me, but it was just another one of her lies. I soon found out that she had been using me all along to gain information for her brother about a suspected uprising of traitors, and Aro and I barely escaped with our lives.

Aro never gave up on our goals, however, and my determination was renewed by my anger and guilt over Camelia's betrayal. Years passed and Aro and I amassed an army before returning to Romania. We were both ready to do battle, to become the leaders that fate had destined us to be, but, first, I had a personal vendetta to settle. I watched Camelia as she laughed and enjoyed her life with the ones she truly loved and then, when she set off on her own for a hunt in the secluded wilderness, I followed her and I killed her.

When I returned, everything was in a state of chaos. The Romanian guardsmen were rebelling against the leaders, and Aro and I saw this as the perfect time to strike. The rest, as they say, is history: Aro and I won, and the Romanians fell in disgrace. But until this day, no one but me knew the real reason behind our unlikely victory: Camelia's death. When her body turned to ashes, so, too, did her connections. Every tie that she had built out of manipulation had disintegrated and all of the bonds that she had worked to destroyed were renewed in strength. Her death forged the path for the destruction of her kindred, as they were left confused and angry, unsure of themselves and their purpose. It left Aro and me with the perfect opportunity to take control.

So you see, Victoria, there is something very important that my dear brother does not know: Chelsea's gift does not permanently alter peoples emotional bonds. Her power is directly connected to her very existence and, should she perish, all of those whom her gift influences will be set free of her control. Aro's talented cohorts are not eternally bound to do his bidding. Chaos will ensue again, and you and I will rise above it. Aro will be condemned for his abuse of power and I shall watch his demise with sheer joy. Together, you and I will give the lost guard members direction and guidance. We will become the next great leaders, and all those who choose not to follow us shall die alongside the Cullens."


	29. ANIMAL I HAVE BECOME

**Dear Readers,**

**I am sorry. It has been far too long since I have provided an update. Please, I beg of you all, forgive me. I will try to change. If it has been so long that you forget the sordid details of this piece, please read the summaries at the beginning of each chapter (the table of contents on twilighted). They should get you back into the swing of things so that this new chapter makes sense. Oh, and pay no mind to the dates. They are there to keep my head on straight for how much time has passed in the story. Enjoy!**

**Love, Kate :) **

**In the last chapter, we were distraught to learn that Edward agreed to stay in Volterra at Aro's cruel request. He chose to sacrifice himself to save his family from Aro's threat of murder. We also found out some tidbits about the shortcomings of one vampire's gift and the history of vampires in general. We received some information about Caius' and Victoria's endgame. Last time in Forks, Bella and Conner were running away from their enemies. So, here's some more of the story. I feel like it isn't enough to give to all of you how have been patiently (or not so patiently) waiting for more, but I hope that it will do for now. Much love, darlings. And if you feel like it, please review.**

**29 ~ Animal I Have Become**

"**I can't escape this hell  
So many times I've tried  
But I'm still caged inside  
Somebody get me through this nightmare  
I can't control myself…  
I can't escape myself  
So many times I've lied  
But there's still rage inside  
Somebody get me through this nightmare  
I can't control myself  
So what if you can see  
The darkest side of me  
No one will ever change this animal I have become  
Help me believe it's not the real me  
Somebody help me tame this animal I have become  
Help me believe it's not the real me  
Somebody help me tame this animal  
Somebody help me through this nightmare  
I can't control myself  
Somebody wake me from this nightmare  
I can't escape this hell  
This animal…  
So what if you can see  
The darkest side of me  
No one will ever change this animal I have become  
Help me believe it's not the real me  
Somebody help me tame this animal I have become  
Help me believe it's not the real me  
Somebody help me tame this animal  
This animal I have become..."**

_**Animal I Have Become **_**by Three Days Grace**

**Wednesday, October 12**

_**Alice's POV**_

Weeks ago, when all of this had started, when my visions had begun to go haywire and the futures of my family members revealed themselves to me closer and closer in time with their occurrence rather than early enough for me to bring about their prevention, I tried very hard to look at the situation from a broad perspective. I tried to remind myself of all of the instances where my precognitive glimpses had saved one or more of my siblings, of all of the times where fate had sought to destroy us and I had managed to intervene and alter the course of our lives for the better.

I convinced myself that this series of unfortunate events—the heartbreak and the tragedies and the betrayals—were merely fate's way of reminding me of my place in the world. I was not an all-knowing and all-powerful god and, whether I liked it or not, some things in life would always be subject to chance. I had long ago been granted a gift, but it was not perfect, and _I_ was not perfect, and, sometimes, I was just going to have to live with the unhappiness of the situations that I could not change.

At least, that's the way I had _tried _to see things earlier on. I had _tried _to be optimistic and hopeful that soon, I would have proved that I had learned this important lesson and I could get back to protecting my family. Right now, however, my patience was wearing frightfully thin, and I was through trying to be understanding.

This was not a lesson—I was sure of it. It was a _test, _a trial to see how long I would last, how many tragedies I could survive before I finally cracked and went running back to the loony bin from whence I came, cross-eyed and spouting nonsense. I had _almost_ reached my breaking point, until a few minutes ago when I had the epiphany that fate was playing games with me. Now, I was just pissed off. Fate was one conniving bitch, but I refused to go down without a fight. I was ready and willing to become the force of nature that everyone always asserted that I was, ready to step up to the plate and become a worthy opponent in this sadistic game, ready to show fate that it had picked the wrong vampire to mess with. My family—_all_ of my family—was going to survive and find happiness again, and if fate didn't like that, well, it could just pucker up and kiss my ass.

My determination was set as I leaned my body out the window and watched as my sister spread her wings and flew on her newly stable feet towards the river. As soon as I was certain that Conner and Bella were within the safety of the forest, I raced out of Edward's room, down the steps and toward the front door. Esme had followed directly behind me, and as I swung open the heavy door, I answered her unasked question, my eyes searching down the gravel lane for visual confirmation of what my ears and my mind's _eyes_ had told me only moments before. "I saw Charlie coming here. And in my vision, Bella sensed him first." Esme drew in a shocked breath as I continued, "She didn't recognize him and she wasn't strong enough to resist the call of his blood so soon after her awakening. We tried, but none of us were fast enough to stop her." Regret and horror colored my tone as my mind replayed the vision and I said, "She killed her own father." I watched out the entryway as Charlie's cruiser became visible at the edge of the tree-lined driveway. "We can't let her near him. If she makes that mistake, she'll never be able to forgive herself, and neither will we." Esme nodded her head in agreement and glanced toward the woods, no doubt checking to make sure that Bella was nowhere to be seen.

As the car came to a stop next to the garage and I saw from a distance how worn-down Charlie's body had become, how much he had aged in the short time since I had last seen him, my sympathy overflowed for him. He had lost so much, and yet nothing at all, and for his own safety, I couldn't tell him the news that would bring joy back into his life. I wanted to, so badly I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't place him at risk by giving him that knowledge. Our situation was already precarious enough; Edward and Carlisle were risking their lives to place our family in good standing once again, and the last thing we needed was to break the rules a second time.

I tried to use logic to convince myself that I was doing the right thing; after all, it would do Charlie no good to learn of his daughter's rebirth and his granddaughter's existence if he was then killed for also knowing that vampires roamed the earth. I sighed in irritation, for I was left with a conundrum. Mere minutes ago, I had vowed that my family would survive and be happy, and now I was being forced to choose between the two options for Charlie. I could protect his life, but he would likely live out the remainder of his days in misery or I could restore his happiness and significantly lower his chances for survival. I thought of Bella, wondering what she would have done, and I realized that she had knowingly caused his sorrow to protect him. I resigned myself to continue on with Bella's wishes and do my best to soothe his sadness while he was here. Then, no matter how hard I may find it, I would send him on his way to heal as if the lies his daughter had created were real. It was for the best.

Just then, as if fate was, once again, trying to knock me off-kilter, make me second-guess my decisions, Kate, in her curiosity, entered the foyer with Emmalie still nestled in her arms, her position front and center for the outside world to see. Charlie was drawing closer and closer to the porch; if he saw Emmalie, I had no doubts that he would know of her parentage, and, in turn, all of our carefully-guarded secrets would be spilled. After all, the little munchkin looked just like her mother, save for her rapidly-growing copper hair, and Charlie was no fool. He would know. In a rush, I said, "Please take Emmie up to Edward's room and don't come down until our guest has left." I quickly glanced out the opened door to make sure we hadn't been spotted as Kate unquestioningly followed my instructions and quickly ascended the stairs.

"Dear God, look at him," I heard Esme whisper as she drank in the sight of Bella's destroyed father for the first time. "That poor man." She looked back and forth between Charlie and the stairs, and I instantly knew what she was thinking.

"Esme, we can't tell him," I said too softy for human hears to overhear as Charlie took his first step onto the porch and eyed us with a confused expression.

After a few milliseconds of contemplation, she not-so-quietly replied, "Yes we can, Alice."

"We can't put him in danger this way! The Volturi already have enough ammunition to fuel their accusations and place all of our lives in danger. Do you want him to die, too?" I whispered rapidly, with more conviction than I actually felt.

"He would think the danger worthwhile, Alice, I know it," she replied quietly. I wasn't so sure, and I began searching for a vision that might confirm her statement. But I saw nothing, just fog and confusion. I gave fate a mental two-fingered salute for my lack of visions and then opened my mouth to protest, but just as Charlie came to stand in front of us, Esme compassionately said, "A parent would _always_ give his life for his child." She glanced pointedly at me with a sad smile gracing her features, and, for the very first time, I caught a glimpse into my mother's soul.

I realized that she had quietly been grieving over the loss of Emmett all this time, even though, outwardly, she seemed bizarrely unaffected. Now that I paused and took the time to truly _see_ her, Esme's eyes illuminated the sorrow that she had been struggling to hide. She was taking my brother's death particularly hard because it was not the first son she had lost. I thought of her tragic history, of her infant child's death that had ultimately been her undoing in her mortal life, and my heart broke for her. I had been so busy with my own thoughts, my own grief that I had failed to realize that Esme must feel as though she was living in a painfully slow and unending pattern of losing her children. Years ago, she had suffered through the death of her baby and now, in the span of a week, she had dealt with the sudden loss of Emmett and the potential deaths of her husband, another son, and two of her daughters. She understood Charlie's loss more than any other, and I wondered if, perhaps, Bella's entry into motherhood might have aligned her viewpoint with Esme's.

I hung my head and took a deep breath, trying to sift through all of my emotions and wants in order to determine the right thing to do. Esme's words continuously flowed through my mind, and I came to a swift conclusion. I looked to her once more for reassurance, and at her nod, I moved my gaze to the broken man who stood before me and said, "Charlie, please come inside. There is someone I think you should meet."

_**Charlie's POV**_

I poured every single can of beer down the drain. I didn't want the numbing liquid to cloud my brain and render me incapable of speaking my mind and getting some answers. After two full nights of rest and hours of careful thought, I had it all perfectly planned out. I was going to go the Cullen's house and calmly ask to see Edward. I was going to sit down with him, man to man, and ask him all of my questions. I would listen to what he had to say and witness his pain and his torment as he finally told me the truth and then I would walk out of his and his family's lives forever and do my absolute best to move on with my own. And, just in case, I would leave my gun in the car. It was a good plan, up till I arrived at the house and I started to feel my anger brewing and threatening to reach the surface now that I was, once again, in close proximity of _him_.

I slowly walked to the door and, seeing only Alice and Esme standing before me, I did everything I could to keep my emotions in check. It was likely that Esme had been informed that I had almost shot her son, so I figured I had a snowball's chance in Hell of getting near Edward unless I was able to convince them that I would be on my best behavior. I nodded my head in greeting and, surprisingly, was immediately invited inside. The two women backed away from the door and I took a few cautious steps into the house, pondering their unexpected hospitality as my eyes darted around the room in hopes of catching a glimpse of the boy I had come to see. I had to admit, my curiosity was also peaked by Alice's statement that there was someone there I should meet, but the emotion was overshadowed by my profound need to see _him. _There was no one else in the room with us, though, just the two women who stood before me, looking at me through differing shades of uncertainty and understanding.

After a few moments of silence, I was about to inquire as to the meaning of Alice's bizarre words when Esme, her gaze never leaving me, said, "Kate, it's alright. Please bring her down." I looked around the room again, wondering if I had missed the presence of this "Kate", and trying to figure out the identity of the "her" that Esme was referring to. I, again, saw no one in the surrounding rooms, so I turned my attention toward Alice and Esme, but my gaze never reached them because standing at the bottom of the stairway was a beautiful young woman. And in that woman's arms was a small child, a striking little girl with coppery curls. Tears filled my eyes as I approached the girl, and my anger, once again, began to boil. There was no denying that the child was Edward's daughter, and I could barely contain my rage over the fact that the lowlife had betrayed Bella in yet another way.

But Edward was not available as an outlet for my fury at that moment, so I turned back to the only adult present and spat out, "Why would you do this?" Esme's eyes widened in shock and she opened her mouth to respond, but I didn't allow it. "Haven't I already been hurt enough? Is this some sort of game for all of you—to see how much you can make me suffer? I lost my daughter and, in turn, my grandchild, and now you decide to flaunt Edward's infidelity in front of me so that the baby he fathered with Bella, the baby that he _murdered_ would be thrown in my face. What kind of people would do something like that? And where is he? I want to see him right—"

"Charlie, stop!" Esme commanded as she placed her hand on my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze before approaching the blonde girl and taking the child into her own arms. She walked toward me and I looked away, unable to bear the sight of the baby that should have belonged to my daughter. "Look at her, Charlie," she insisted. "Look at her face. It is the spitting image of her mother's."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and wiped away the tears as I risked a glance in the direction of the child. I saw Bella everywhere I looked. Her eyes, her nose, her mouth, her chin, the little girl had tinier versions of nearly all of Bella's features. My eyes widened and my tears flowed anew as I shook my head from side to side and whispered, "It's not possible." I started backing away toward the door, away from this girl that could not be real, this girl that my mind had created to torture me. I wanted to close my eyes, to block her out, but they wouldn't move; they never once left the child's face, Bella's face.

"Charlie," Alice said from behind me, her voice startling my steps into suspension, "I'd like to introduce you to your granddaughter, Emmalie Alice Cullen." I forced my eyes to tear themselves away from the child's face as Alice came into view and all I could do was stare at her, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as I attempted to voice questions that I could not even manage to form in my mind. I started taking rapid breaths as my heart pounded out of control. I didn't know how to process this information; it was unreal, it simply didn't make any sort of sense. I was going into shock as the world around me began to spin out of control. "Don't freak out," she continued quickly. "May-maybe you should sit down." I merely nodded and followed her into the living room, plopping down on the pillowy sofa in a daze as I once again stared at the little girl that sat across from me on Esme's lap.

I had questions, loads and loads of questions, but at that moment, the only word I was able to form was, "How?"

I saw the three women exchange a look, and then Alice began. "Before I answer your question, I need you to know that the information you are about to receive will likely place you in danger. I know it probably won't matter to you now, but Bella was warned of this before she learned the truth about us and it is only just that you be warned as well." I nodded my head once in acknowledgment as I wondered who the hell my daughter had gotten herself involved with. I felt like I was sitting amidst a mafia family or something equally as crazy, though I somehow knew that the reality would turn out to be far worse than my wildest imagination could foresee.

Alice continued, "Charlie, my family and I, we're different from you. We're not…exactly…human." The incredulity must have been written all over my face because she quickly stood and said, "I can prove it." In less time than it took me to blink, she was standing across the large room and then, in a blur, she was back at my side. "We're faster," she stated, then slammed her hand down on the coffee table in front of me, splitting the solid wood into two pieces. "We're stronger," I heard her say as I stared at the splintered oak. "And we are infinitely more dangerous." I was trying to form excuses for what I had just seen, but my mind was drawing a repeated blank. I said nothing, using my silence to encourage her to continue with her mind-bending explanation.

"We're vampires, Charlie," she stated simply, as if it were the most normal thing on earth to be proclaiming that she was a mythical creature that didn't truly exist.

I huffed in disbelief and laughed humorlessly until I realized that each pair of identically-colored honey eyes that was staring in my direction was deathly serious. I cleared my throat and said, "I'm sorry, Alice, but this all seems a little far-fetched, and I'm really not in the mood for jokes."

"This is not a joke. The fact that I am telling you this is grounds for both of us to be killed. Please, do not take this information lightly. According to our laws, no human is to be made aware of our existence. Edward, with our consent, chose to break those laws because of his love for Bella. And now we have chosen to break them again so that you can live your life free from the grief that was caused when you thought your daughter had died. Charlie, Bella's didn't jump off of the cliff that day." My heart started pounding. It was hard to wrap my mind around this information, but I tried with all my might because I desperately wanted to believe it was true. I wanted to believe that my daughter was alive. Alice continued, "She wanted everyone to believe she had died because she was scared, but at the same time, so extremely brave.

She did the same once before, months ago, when she left you under the pretense of leaving Edward and Forks behind. The truth was that our family, Bella included, had made an enemy of some of members of our kind who chose to follow the typical diet of human blood. We do not believe in drinking from humans, but there are so many other vampires out there who would willingly kill anyone and everyone just to satisfy their appetites, and we ran into three of them during the baseball game last spring. One of them, James, took a liking to Bella and was intent on killing her, so we ran away in an effort to protect her. We managed to keep her safe in Phoenix until James made her believe that he had captured Renée. Bella knew that her life was in danger, but she ran off to meet him, risking herself to save her mother. We got to them just barely in time to save Bella's life."

The memories flashed through my head quickly—Bella's cruel words and sudden departure, the phone call from the hospital that she had been hurt, her quick decision to return to Forks. It all made more sense now, in light of the fact that I had abandoned my sanity and chosen to consider this nonsense. I found my voice and said, "So she never had the accident at that hotel, did she? That was all a lie?" I wanted to be angry that I had been kept in the dark, but the hope that had swallowed me whole when I learned that my daughter was likely still alive would not allow such a negative emotion.

"Yes, Charlie, it was. Bella's injuries were from being attacked by James. We took care of him, and we thought she would be safe, but we neglected to think about the potential danger of James' _friends_. Somehow, after we left, Bella found out that one of them was hanging around, trying to get to her, to kill her and settle a score, so she made the decision to leave. She knew you would never accept her disappearance unless it seemed permanent, so she faked her death in hopes that it would keep you away from her, keep you safe from our enemies, and keep you safe from the dangerous knowledge of our existence since she had discovered she was pregnant with Edward's child."

I was amazed at my calm as I asked the one question that I had intended to force Edward to answer truthfully. "Did you know? Did any of you know when you left? Did _he _know?"

It was Esme who spoke up then. "No, none of us were aware of Bella's pregnancy before we left. I promise you that we would never have abandoned her if we had known." She paused, then said, "To be honest, only Carlisle was aware that it was even a possibility for Bella to conceive Edward's child. What he told you in the cemetery was the truth as he knew it; our bodies do not change so they are incapable of growing a child. We all know this, and it was logical for him to assume that they were also incapable of contributing to the creation of new life. When, by some divine miracle, we found Bella alive and with child, we were all elated. But our joy was short lived, because our enemy had also found her."

"Her name is Victoria," Alice said, her words laced with venomous hatred. "She attacked Bella when she was alone, beat her to within an inch of her life, but we got her to a hospital, and with the help of our extended family," she nodded to Kate, indicating her gratitude, "we were able to save Bella's life again. When the baby came early, Bella's broken body could not handle the stress of the delivery." I felt the tears spring to my eyes and begin to roll down my cheeks. This was why I had yet to see my daughter. She did not kill herself as I had thought, but she was also not alive. I had gained a grandchild, a beautiful, perfect little girl, but, in turn, I had still lost my daughter. I hung my head and let the torturous mixture of sadness and gratitude wash over me.

"Charlie," Alice whispered as she placed her hand on my knee and gave a delicate squeeze, "Bella didn't die. Her human body had given up, yes, but Edward could not accept losing her again. So he bit her. He changed her—made her into one of us."

I looked up into her face, saw in her eyes that she was speaking the truth, and I willed my tears to stop as my heart fluttered in relief and excitement. "So she's—can—can I see her?"

Alice took a deep breath and pursed her lips before saying, "I'm sorry, but no, you can't. She isn't ready yet."

I was confused. "What does that mean, exactly, 'she's not ready yet'?" I narrowed my eyes, challenging her because I had been to Hell and back and I wanted, and deserved, to see my daughter, to hug her and hold her and tell her all of the words that I had never gotten a chance to say.

"Charlie, you need to understand something. Bella is different now. And the way we live, our abilities and our weaknesses, they are all new to her, difficult for her to control. I told you that my family does not drink from the blood of humans, but that is not an instinctual process. It is a personal decision, something that each of us has to work hard to achieve. The ability to restrain ourselves in the presence of a human can sometimes take years. Right now, Bella's mind may tell her over and over again that it is wrong to kill a human, but if she were to smell the blood flowing through your veins, or hear your heart beating in your chest, it is not her mind that would control her actions. Her body, her innate desires would overrule her judgment, and she would likely try to kill you. For your own safety, and hers, you need to give her time to adjust. You will be able to see her again, I promise you that. Just—not today."

This news was a lot to take in, a lot to accept, but, after much deliberation, I decided to trust Alice. The knowledge that Bella was alive, in a manner of speaking, was just going to have to be enough for now. And until the time came that I could see her again, I would occupy myself with getting to know my granddaughter. "What about Emmalie? Can I, um, can I hold her?"

"Absolutely," Esme said with a wide smile. She leaned down to Emmalie's ear and whispered unknown words and, to my surprise and amazement, the tiny girls eyes grew wide, she smiled big, revealing a full set of perfect white teeth, and held her arms out to me. I stood and took her warm little body into my arms, hugging her close and reveling in her sweet scent.

"Hello, Emmalie," I whispered to her. "I'm your—"

"Grandpa Chalie," she finished for me, beaming from ear to ear. I looked at her in shock, and then took in the smiles of the three women surrounding us. "Momma's daddy," she stated, clearly proud of herself.

"How is she—" I started. Honestly, I wasn't even sure what to ask. I had been wondering how she was even born yet, and then how she was so big already and now I wanted to know how the hell she was able to speak.

"I suppose we should have mentioned," Esme said, "Emmalie has been maturing very quickly. In total, Bella's pregnancy lasted three and a half weeks. Emmie was extremely small at birth, but has been growing, both physically and intellectually, by the hour. To be honest, we are not sure how quickly she will progress to adulthood, nor do we know if she will eventually remain in one state, like her father, or continue to age, like her human mother would have if she had not been changed. She has traits of both of them; her heart beats, her skin is fiery warm, she is changing and, as you can see, she looks very much like Bella. But she has Edward's hair, a combination of appetites, and she is exceptionally gifted."

"Gifted?" I questioned, looking at my granddaughter and wondering if that meant she was extremely smart or if the word referred to her speaking ability or—I felt Emmalie's warm fingers touch my face and the world around me disappeared. I saw flashing images of Bella in a hospital room, bandages strewn all around as Edward knelt by her side and softly kissed her lips and I saw her laying like an angel in a room I did not recognize, her body still, her skin pale as the snow. I heard her voice, her gentle voice, whispering words of love to her child. And then I returned to the Cullen's living room, the images of my daughter cruelly snatched away from me. I realized that everyone was watching me, waiting, expecting something.

"Momma," Emmalie stated, and I looked at her in confusion.

"She inherited her talent from Edward," Esme said softly. "He is a telepath, able to hear everyone's thoughts, except, ironically, for Bella's. Emmalie's gifts are the opposite; she is a projector, able to transmit her thoughts and memories into the minds of others through the simple act of touch. Perhaps, as she ages, her abilities will strengthen, and the need for contact will be negated, but, even so, her gift is rare and very special."

I didn't know what to say. This world of monsters and make-believe was growing more and more far-fetched by the minute. I mean, I was just barely starting to wrap my head around the existence of a creature that looks like a human and sounds like a human but isn't really a human at all, plus the fact that the daughter I had been mourning had now, apparently, become one such creature. But super powers? Really? It was a little too much for me to accept. I stared into Emmalie's eyes—Bella's eyes—searching for an answer to all of this, and as I got lost in the depths of their innocence, I did the only thing a father could do. I believed.

_**Bella's POV**_

They were catching up. We were running like the wind was carrying us wrapped within her gusts and, still, we were not fast enough. I felt fear spiraling throughout my body, and it colored all of my actions and thoughts. I was scared for myself, for the life that I could not remember and the experiences I had yet to enjoy in this new body. My memories seemed on the brink of discovery, just out of reach for my conscious mind to grasp, but somehow I knew that I had reasons and _people _to live for. I was scared for Conner, because he was behind me, closer to _them, _closer to danger and I had only just begun to get to know him, to learn from him. I wanted him to be around when I remembered what he had meant to me, and maybe, someday, when I was able to return his feelings. For some reason, those last thoughts terrified me most of all, because I needed him to _be there. _The notion of someone—anyone—leaving me instantly filled me with a pain so profound that I nearly forgot that the hounds of hell were hot on our heels.

The snarls and sloppy breaths did wonders to remind me of their existence, however. I focused my mind on running toward the sound of the flowing water of the river, toward my home, hoping that Conner and I would reach our family in time to even out the battle that was coming. I had seen three sets of eyes, but I had no way of knowing how many of the foul-scented beasts were actually hunting us. All I knew, with absolute certainty, was that they were our enemies and they wanted us dead.

Branches whipped and battered my arms and face as I made my hasty retreat through the trees, and I realized that my previously fragile skin had grown impermeable. I began to wonder exactly what kind of damage those mongrels could possibly do. My unmarked flesh and my newly acquired skills had me feeling invincible and, for a moment, I contemplated turning around to fight. I began to slow my pace, readying myself for a fight. I was angry at the fear they had initially invoked in me and I wanted to tear them all apart with my bare hands for making me second-guess my strength. I was no longer weak and broken and I refused to be made to feel so _human _again. Those dogs were going to pay.

I was almost completely turned when Conner reached my side and grasped my hand in his, continuing to run toward the now-visible river. "Come on, Bella," he said hurriedly. "The two of us can't fight them all, and I won't lose you like this." He tugged on my arm and I increased my pace to match his. We jumped the river effortlessly as our attackers splashed through the water, and as soon as our feet touched down on the grass, Conner began yelling for our family.

He spouted off a few names that I didn't recognize, but the melody of his voice faded in into the background of irrelevant noise with each step I made toward the house. My ears were mesmerized by the beauteous sounds emanating from within the walls of my home. The steady rhythm of the intertwining beats sent pleasure coursing through my veins, building inside of me until it reached the hollow of my throat. In an instant, the pleasure turned to pain as my mouth caught on fire and the flames crackled and burned downward to saturate my chest. I felt as though I were choking on the unending thumps and the sweet scent that had filled my nostrils.

My breathing became labored and my mind focused. The world around me disappeared. I stood alone in this space and time with nothing to distract me from the sounds and smells that had seized my body and filled it with a new, all-consuming purpose. I ripped my hand from Conner's captive hold and allowed my feet to swiftly carry me toward my need. Figures appeared on the front porch and my eyes swept over the familiar and unfamiliar faces of my kind. They were speaking to me, approaching me and grabbing for me, but their words and actions were meaningless to me. I dodged their attacks and broke free from their grasps until I reached the steps of the porch, the front door slowly creaked open and I finally came face to face with the being that had summoned this desire.

I smiled, baring my razor-sharp teeth at my victim. I listened as his heart began pumping wildly in his chest and the blood flowed within him so rapidly that I was sure it would soon burst forth from his body and rain down on me in warm droplets of fire-soothing liquid.

"Bella?" he said, his voice filled with an astonishing blend of happiness and hope. He should have feared me, and I found his lack of terror insulting. My smile quickly faded as I crouched down and growled so ferociously that I surprised even myself with the malicious nature of the sound. His expression changed; he understood now, but he could not prevent his fate. I heard the beasts approaching and the pleading cries of my family as they drew closer, but everything aside from this man was of no consequence. His human body housed the only nectar that would calm the fires raging within my throat, and I desperately needed to put them out. The man began to back away, into the supposed _safety _of the house. This few seconds of play had been too much; I refused to wait any longer to take what I wanted. So I lunged.


	30. ENEMY

Alrighty roo…So I know I suck major big time for, once again, taking forever and five million days to update, but nursing school is kicking my ass by eating up every free moment I have in life. Is it fun? Yes. Is it worth it? Most definitely. Do I like the fact that it prevents me from writing? Hell no!

Anywho, in the last chapter, Charlie found out about the existence of vampires, and about his granddaughter. Awww. Also, Bella and Conner returned home after being chased through the forest. Bella smelled Charlie and thought "mmm…yummy" and was just about to lunge at her daddy for dessert. I know I said that this chapter would be in Volterra, but it works out best if I submit that chapter next, and then after that get to what is going on with the vamps inside the house. I know, we don't progress too far with this, but I'm a slowpoke and I promise that I'm gonna get you there, if you are so kind as to keep reading. Thank you all for giving this a chance! Enjoy!

**30 ~ Enemy**

"…**I put hatred in a box then I locked it  
The strongest one I made  
I buried it all, grew a tree without thorns  
And sat beneath the shade  
You might think I'm your enemy  
But that don't make you mine  
And all I have now is empathy…"**

_**Enemy **_**by Jack Johnson**

**Wednesday, October 12 to Thursday, October 13**

_**Jacob's POV**_

Sometimes, it sucked being right. Well, partially right, at least, because Bella wasn't _dead. _She was undead, not that there really was much of a difference between the two. She was no longer the cute little klutzy girl I had grown up with, no longer a defenseless human in the midst of vampires, no longer an innocent in need of protection. Somewhere between her arrival a few days ago—when I was absolutely certain that she was the blonde with the beating heart—and today, she had become one of _them. _A bloodsucker, a leech, an _enemy_.

At first, I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't. I had spent the better part of yesterday imagining what it would be like to reunite Charlie with his daughter, to see him smile a _real_ smile again, to finally put an end to his painful-to-observe suffering, and I wasn't ready to let go of that pleasant dream quite so quickly. It was kinda hard to hold onto the belief that she was still the same old Bella, though, as I watched her suck the lifeblood out of half of the furry little forest creatures.

With her presence, we finally had our proof that the Cullens had broken the treaty, and my patrol team was on direct orders to stay upwind, off of their radar, until we could meet up with the rest of the pack and strategize our attack. We were all having a really rough time with that plan, but, unlike Paul and Embry, who were keyed up for a fight and ready to claw and smash and bite all of the vampires' stone bodies into smithereens, I was finding it difficult to follow the orders for completely different reasons.

The truth of the matter was that I didn't know how to kill someone I had known before she had become a bloodsucker. Every other leech I had chased was a stranger, an unnamed adversary to which I had no ties. This was completely new territory for me. And maybe I was just being a pussy, but I wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of looking into the face of the girl that seven-year-old me had stolen my first kiss from and killing her as if she meant nothing to me. Because, as much as I hated to admit it, up until recently, she had meant a whole lot. I'd pretty much had a crush on her since I surpassed the age when girls had cooties, hence the 2nd grade smooch, and I had secretly hoped that she would return the sentiment when she moved in with Charlie full-time. But then she'd met Cullen, and it was all downhill from there. I'd moped about that for awhile, and moved on, but seeing her now, seeing what had become of her and knowing what fate she was doomed to suffer, I felt guilty for not doing something more to save her from herself—and the leeches.

Then, even if I could get over all of my own emotional bullshit and get on with it, how, exactly, was I supposed to face Charlie after this? How could I even look at him knowing that, in some form, Bella had come back and I had been responsible for taking her away from him again? My mind was full of questions that I couldn't even begin to answer as we silently followed the feeding vampires, but I was easily distracted from all of my mental musings when Bells started mauling her "friend". I could take a lot, truly, I could. But watching in the wings as the girl I spent my summers with went at it with some unknown bloodsucker in the middle of the bushes was a little more than I could handle. So I, purely accidentally, made a little too much noise in my discomfort. The lovebirds immediately stopped their budding porno and started running, the three of us fresh on their heels.

I knew that, when we caught them, I would have little choice but to destroy them, and the uncertainty filled my thoughts once again. Were we doing the right thing? Could I really go through with this? Was there any part of her that might be the Bella I used to know? Of course, since my questions had been filtering into Paul's consciousness all day and my carelessness had alerted the vamps to our presence, he felt the need to be an asshole. I wouldn't have expected any less of him.

_Becoming a leech lover there, Jake? I always knew you were soft, but this is pathetic, even for you. _I growled at his insults, but I continued running instead of duking it out with him. For now. _Look, I don't care if Bella was your first kiss, your first love, or your first screw, that chick in front of us is NOT her, no matter how familiar she may look, or how much you want to believe that a part of her is still human. She is not the little girl you knew, or the daughter Charlie's grieving for. She's a vampire, and she is dangerous so you better get your shit together and put your head in the game because I don't want to go into this fight having to worry about whether or not my brother has my back._

Paul was an ignorant prick, but he also had a point. I knew that he was right, and on some level I understood that the Bella I had known was gone; it was just going to take a while for this whole fucked up situation to sink in. _Don't worry, brother _I thought contemptuously. _I know what needs to be done. _It wasn't like I could really get out of it anyway, thanks to Sam. I'd just have to figure out how to deal with Charlie later.

_Good _Paul continued. _At least you know where your loyalties lie. Now stay alert, they're crossing the river and heading toward the house. This is bound to get ugly._

I cleared my mind of all reservations and mentally prepared myself for the imminent battle. Sam and the rest of the pack were still about five minutes out, and he had, once again, ordered us to wait until they arrived to begin the attack. Paul and Embry were chomping at the bit, frenzied by the chokehold Sam had placed on us when we could easily view, and attack, our targets across the water. I was completely focused. I wanted this fight to be quick and easy, and I knew that, of the three of my team, I was the only one with the mental faculties right now to plan ahead and make sure that we didn't get our asses killed.

I started glancing around, trying to gauge how many vampires we were about to royally piss off, when I saw the cruiser. A slew of curses flew through my mind as I paced along the riverbank, frantically searching for any sign of Charlie, wondering what the hell he was doing here and knowing that he never would have come if I hadn't been so careless a few days ago. When my gaze swept over the house, I saw the front door opening and Charlie stepped out onto the porch, directly in Bella's path.

I knew that Charlie's life was mere moments away from ending, and, if I followed Sam's orders, I would be nothing but a spectator, an accomplice to his death because of my inaction. For the millionth time, I got angry over all of this "follow the leader" crap, and for the first time, I felt liberated by my fury. By some miracle, my collar of submission cracked wide open, and I didn't waste any time asking how or why. I splashed through the river and broke out into a desperate run, listening to the snarls of my still-captive brothers and watching in horror as Bella crouched down and growled at her own father. At that moment, all of my doubts seemed absurd—that _thing _was NOT Bella. She was a monster and I was more than willing to take her out.

Just as she lunged, I leapt into the air and we collided into each other before roughly rolling into the front of the house. I immediately tried to pin her down with my paws so that Charlie could find somewhere safe to hide, but, as he ran to the cruiser, Bella went batshit crazy that I was keeping her from her human dessert and started hissing and snapping at my fur, my neck. And, holy shit, she was powerful. She latched onto my scruff and threw me off of her like it was the easiest feat in the world, but I landed on my feet and was instantaneously racing back to the fight. For the second time in as many minutes, the two of us collided and, this time, I managed to sink my teeth into her shoulder. She screamed like a banshee in what I'm assuming was pain and I was about to take a second mouthful when I heard the rapid double-click of a shotgun and a bullet whizzed past my left ear. It penetrated the banister of the porch railing that was directly in front of me, causing wooden splinters to explode outward from the impact.

The shot distracted me just long enough for bitch Bella to grab me by the neck with her sharp-ass teeth and toss me into one of the concrete pillars of the porch. It cracked, and some of my bones cracked, but I knew that I had to keep fighting because Charlie was still in danger, especially if he thought that a gun could protect him from the leeches. I struggled to get to my feet, realizing with my movement that my injuries were a bit worse than I had thought. I took a few unsteady steps forward as another shot was fired. Again, the bullet passed by dangerously close to my head. Either Charlie's aim was way off, or my initial assumption was wrong and it wasn't Bella that he was shooting at. I glanced at him then and, sure enough, the gun was cocked and pointed in _my_ direction. Well, this was just fucking _fabulous. _A filthy bloodsucker tries to kill him, she gets nothing. I save his life and he starts shooting at me.

Then, to continue the mindfuckery, the vampires that had been running toward us, the ones I was quite certain were about to kick my damaged ass, flew right on by me and grabbed hold of Bella's arms, struggling to pull her into the house. They were having a hard time of it, though, and I found myself wondering why in the hell she was so damn strong compared to the rest of them. I started in their direction, determined to go down fighting, but my body had other ideas, and my broken leg gave out on me halfway up the porch steps. I heard the cock of the gun, closer now, and my eyes quickly came to rest on Charlie's enraged face. I knew that I was seconds away from being shot, so I did the one thing I could think of to stop him. I phased.

_**Charlie's POV**_

I never wanted to leave this place. It was like a beautiful dream, spending those precious moments with my grandbaby, seeing the world through her eyes, and learning about the world through the eyes of the creatures that had both stolen and saved my daughter's life. It wasn't quite heaven, but compared to the hell I had been living, it was pretty damn close.

The hours passed like seconds, and before I knew it, the sun was setting on this day of revelations. I helped Alice put Emmalie to sleep in a third floor bedroom, my eyes never leaving her tiny body as she clenched a fuzzy pink blanket to her face with one hand and suckled the thumb of her other one until her eyes slowly fluttered closed. I sat on the bed and watched her sleep, utterly fascinated by every breath she took, every sound she made until Alice whispered my name and I feared that the time had come for me to leave. I kissed Emmie's forehead once, vowing in my mind that I would see her bright and early tomorrow morning. My heart clenched when she whispered "Daddy?" at the sensation of my lips on her skin and then nuzzled her face even closer to her blanket.

I was still on the fence about Edward. Alice and Esme had spared no details in telling me all the things I hadn't known about my daughter's life in the past nine months. They tried tirelessly to convince me of the love that she still shared with Edward. What their words could not portray, Emmalie showed me with a simple touch. I think she could somehow sense that the mention of her father left a bitter taste in my mouth, because she never missed an opportunity to show him to me in the light that she saw him. Emmalie's entire life played out in a movie in my mind. I saw the love in Edward's eyes as he spoke to her for the first time; I _felt_ the gentleness she felt in his touch as he held her. And then I saw the fear and the despair that emanated from him when he thought that he was going to lose Bella. I could identify with his emotions and the tiniest part of my heart had started to forgive him.

But when the visions ended, I would look at my granddaughter's face and see the emotions she was trying to hide. Just like her mother, she tried to handle her sadness all by herself, and, just like her mother, she was absolutely horrible at hiding it. I could easily see the pain in her eyes that had been caused by Edward's most recent choice to leave. I knew his intentions were noble in both instances of his departure, but I really didn't give a damn about his intentions. He was a father now; he had a responsibility to be there for his child no matter what, and he had shirked that responsibility by leaving. Maybe, just maybe, when he returned, I would find some way to forgive him. But not today. Today, I was content to despise him.

Alice led me down the steps to a bedroom on the second floor. I followed her inside, confused as to why we weren't joining everyone else downstairs. "This is your room for as long as you want it," she said softly, her hand sweeping through the air in an introductory gesture. "Just like Bella, you have become a part of our secret, our family, and you will always be welcome here. I don't see Bella returning just yet, so I suggest you try to sleep now, because, when she is on the way back, we will need to make arrangements for you to return to your home." My heart fell ever-so-slightly. The thought of leaving my granddaughter for even a moment filled me with anxiety. Everything, every person that was important to me now resided in this house, and I was afraid that if I went home, I would realize that this entire day had been nothing more than a fool's fantasy.

Alice continued, "Just as a precaution, I would ask that you allow Esme and Emmalie to accompany you there. Bella has yet to come into contact with her daughter, and, since I'm not certain of how that interaction will go, I'd rather it not take place until she regains some of her control." I nodded my head in answer to Alice's request, recognizing her acute frustration over the fact that Emmalie's future was indecipherable. Alice had told me of her own special gift and its apparent limitations when it came to my granddaughter, and I could tell that her lack of insight frightened her.

Without thinking, I pulled her into a hug and whispered, "Thank you, Alice. For everything." I had never been much for words, but I was pretty sure that she knew exactly what I meant, exactly how appreciative I was of the gifts that she and her family had given me today. She smiled at me, and I couldn't help the genuine smile that graced my lips in return.

"Okay, so there is a change of clothing on the bed, your bathroom is through there and the—" She stopped mid-sentence and her head tilted ever-so-slightly toward the window, as if she heard something outside the house that my human ears were not privy to. I saw her lips move, but the words she muttered were so swift and silent that I was unable to make them out. She moved toward the door and I instantly followed her, but she abruptly turned and said, "Please, stay here." Judging from her tone, she wasn't making a request.

I tried to do what she said. I was sure that there was a perfectly good reason for me to remain in this room until Alice returned, but after thirty seconds of sitting on the edge of the bed and wondering what was going on, my curiosity got the best of me. I quickly descended the stairs and made my way to the front door. I cautiously opened it and stepped outside into the darkness. As I did, I came face to face with my daughter.

She was absolutely stunning in every way, her movements graceful and sure, her skin pale and angelic, her long brown hair framing her face in wild disarray. The only piece of her that didn't fit was the deep red eyes that were staring in my direction. I knew from everything that I had been told that I should be frightened, but I couldn't find it within me to experience that emotion. My Bella was standing right in front of me, and all I could manage to do was smile. She smiled back at me and I started to hope. But then she crouched down and growled, and I heard the voices of Bella's new family—my new family—yelling for her to stop.

Before I could react, a giant wolf appeared out of thin air and knocked Bella away from me. I started to run toward the cruiser, but not out of fear for myself. Instead, I ran out of fear for my daughter. Whatever that wolf-creature was, I knew that he was dangerous to her, and I'd be damned if I lost her now after everything we'd both been through. I quickly flung open the trunk of the car and grabbed my shotgun, loaded it and took aim just as I heard her scream in pain. The sound rattled me to the depths of my bones and I fired without a second thought. My first shot missed, but it seemed to get the animal's attention enough so that Bella could fight him off, thank God.

Some of the others—Jasper, Irena, and a man who I assumed was Bella's hunting partner, Conner—quickly latched on to Bella's arms and started pulling her toward the house. I noticed the wolf get up and begin to move in their direction again, so I fired another shot, barely missing him. The animal stopped, turned toward me and, to my astonishment, he looked me straight in the eye. I stepped closer, still pointing my gun in his direction as he turned away from me and continued his movements toward the house. He didn't make it far before he collapsed and, once again, stared directly at me. I lifted my gun a little, preparing to finish him off because, despite his evident weakness, I wasn't about the risk the lives of my daughter and granddaughter by allowing him to live.

I was milliseconds away from squeezing the trigger when the world went pear-shaped for the second time today. One minute, a giant red wolf was lying in front of me and the next, my best friend's son lay naked, broken and bleeding at my feet. I instantly dropped my gun and ran to his side. "Jacob?" I asked, my shock causing my inability to say anything more than his name.

"Hey Charlie," he said through heavy breaths. His hand clutched at the wound on his neck as he gave me a lopsided grin and said, "Are you done shooting at me now?" He coughed and the blood that stained his lips made me realize just how grave his injuries were. I looked up to see that Bella had been forced into the safety of the house and Alice was standing next to me. I felt the tears burning my eyes as I silently asked her for answers.

"He's a werewolf, Charlie," she whispered gently. "He exists because we do, and he attacked Bella because she was about to kill you. I didn't _see_ them coming home," she said, looking off into the distance, her eyes filled to the brim with guilt. "If he hadn't been here, you would probably be dead right now." I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't say anything. I just looked at Jacob, and watched as his life started to fade away right in front of me.

"Can we save him?" I finally asked, looking to her and hoping that she could pull off another miracle.

Her eyes glazed over as she continued to look off into the distance. I waited with growing impatience for her to respond, and was about to ask her again, more forcefully, when she abruptly stood and looked down the driveway. I followed her gaze, but saw nothing. "Alice?" I asked sharply in confusion and fear.

She turned to me, and all I saw in her face was insurmountable grief. After a brief instant, she raised her eyes to meet mine, a newly-placed mask of indifference present in her features. "_We_ can't," she stated simply. My heart dropped to my feet. I barely registered the sound of crunching gravel as she continued, "But perhaps Carlisle can—if we all live long enough for him to try." Just then, I saw a black sedan emerging from the trees. I was confused by her last statement until I followed her current line of sight and noticed that nine other wolves had just crossed the river and were racing in our direction.

_**Carlisle's POV**_

Almost the entire journey home had been spent in silence. Initially, I had tried to get Rosalie to respond to my questions of what had happened to her while she was in Italy, but she was mute of both words and emotions, staring right through me and everything else in the world as if she were a ghost that resided on an entirely different plane of existence. Whatever Aro had done to her had completely altered her state of mind, and I knew that he planned to do something similar to Edward. That fact made me sick, and though I wanted to think of something else, something pleasant, I spent the countless hours of travel wondering what was going to become of my son.

There really was no use pondering, though, because I already knew. Destruction followed Aro in his quest for power, and, despite my desire to save Edward and my certainty that I would try to do so until the ends of time, I knew that I would fail, and he would become yet another casualty, if not in body, then in spirit. Like Rosalie, he would lose everything that made him who he was. And I had allowed it to happen by permitting him to journey to Italy.

What choice had I, though? What parent could ever choose which child he would prefer to lose? How could I be asked to value one life over another? The answer had been that I could not, would not, choose; I had tried to save my son and daughter and, in some ways, had wound up losing them both in my efforts.

I desperately wanted to see my wife, to find comfort in her presence, but I feared her reaction to the news that, in all the ways that matter, we had lost another son. I wasn't sure that she would be able to survive Edward's loss on top of everything else, but I prayed that she would because I needed her now more than ever. I needed her to hold my hand as I knelt down to our grandchild and told her that even though her daddy would always love, he would never be coming home. I needed her help to soothe Bella and Alice and Jasper as they came to terms with their futures without Edward. I needed her to help my efforts to heal the wounds that Aro had inflicted on Rosalie's mind. And I needed her to soothe my own demons and help me to move on from the notion that I had failed my family.

I drove quickly toward home, aching to feel Esme's embrace, completely unprepared for the sights that would greet me when I got there. As I flew down the lane, I noticed the police cruiser that was parked in front of the house and I immediately hoped that newborn Bella was somewhere far away from her human father. The car lurched to a stop and I quickly exited my seat and ran toward Alice, who was standing at the foot of the porch steps. Behind her, Charlie was kneeling next to a dark-skinned boy, who I could only assume was a Quileute judging from his appearance, his size and his scent.

Alice gave me the rapid, abridged version of what had happened while I was away. "Charlie knows everything. Bella came back from her first hunt and tried to kill him. Jacob saved his life. Bella's okay—in need of restraint, but okay. He's not doing so great; heart rate is excessive, he lost a lot of blood and his leg is pretty smashed up," she said, nodding her head in the young boy's direction. "The rest of his pack is fast approaching. And I can't see a damn thing, so I could really use some ideas if you have any." She looked past me to the car and noticed that only Rosalie had emerged from within. I heard a sharp intake of breath before her gaze once again met mine. "So I was right," she whispered. "He's not coming home, is he?" I looked down and shook my head no. Then I glanced behind us and watched as the rest of the injured boy's pack ran toward us.

This was not how I had imagined my next meeting with the wolves would go. Ever since Bella had entered our lives, I had known that there might come a day when we would have to request an addendum to the treaty in order for her to fully join our family and I had hoped that when that day came, they would grant us understanding. But now I realized that my optimism may have once again been flawed. We had not had the time or the means to ask for permission, and, in choosing to make Bella an immortal without their consent, we may have lost our ability to reside in peace with our natural enemy.

"Carlisle, please," I heard Charlie beg. "Please try to save him. I can't face Billy if Jake doesn't make it. I can't—"

I immediately went to his side as the rest of my family, save for Bella, Jasper and Conner, filtered out of the house and moved to stand in a defensive line next to Alice. As soon as I moved Jacob's hand away from his neck, I discovered that Jacob's carotid had been nicked by Bella's teeth. It wasn't a deep puncture, but it was enough to be life threatening if I didn't get the artery stitched up soon. "Dammit," I whispered under my breath. I heard the heavy footsteps of the rest of Jacob's pack and said to Charlie, "Apply pressure to the wound. I'll do what I can to help him, but I can't do anything in the midst of a war." Then I stood, moved in front of my family and began speaking as quickly as the wolves could understand. One by one, they slowed their approach.

"Your brother has been hurt. If we fight right here, right now, he, and many of my family, and yours, will die. I don't know about all of you, but I don't want to lose any of my loved ones because of a natural rivalry that, until now, we both have managed to overcome. If you allow yourself to see past your prejudices and us to see past ours, if you allow us to explain our recent actions and their foundation of a love that knew no boundaries, if you allow me to save the life of your brother, Jacob, then you may realize that we are all one in our desire to preserve life. We are all governed by the same emotions, the same happiness and sorrow. And we are all subjected to, and bound together to fight against, the evil of those who feel no compassion for their fellow inhabitants of this earth. Please, I beg of you, see us, not as enemies, but as allies, as friends. I beg of you, let us work together to save a life, and not allow hatred to destroy us all."

I held my position, finding strength in my hope, as the wolves were mere yards away from us. I searched for their leader, for a sign that he had heard my words and was willing to give me this chance to restore our fragile balance. The wolf with fur that was colored like the darkest night sky stared in the direction of the porch steps as the rest of the pack watched my family's every move. I kept my eyes trained on the alpha and waited for the beginning. Or the end.


	31. The Rhythm of the War Drums

It's been a while, darlings. Once again, I can only apologize and beg for your forgiveness.

This chapter is once again in Volterra. It has been quite a long time since Italy was our setting, so if the following "previously on…farewell" summary leaves you feeling a bit puzzled, I suggest you refresh your memory by skimming chapter 28, should you have the time. Now, previously, in Volterra, Edward had agreed to stay and join the guard thanks to a mean and nasty (and mostly silent) conversation he had with Aro where the Italian vamp threatened to murder Edward's entire family if he did not stay. We also learned some snippets of history from Caius, and learned that, no matter what Aro wants to do about the Cullens, Caius just wants them all dead, and he's got a plan to do it. This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but out of the two stopping points, this one keeps us better aligned date-wise with what is happening in Forks. I would tell you to enjoy, but, umm…I'm not so sure that you will, so I'll say instead…ummm…think of Edward naked? That's what I'd do… :)

**31 ~ The Rhythm of the War Drums**

"**Don't fret precious I'm here,  
Step away from the window  
Go back to sleep  
Safe from pain and truth and choice  
And other poison devils  
See, they don't give a fuck about you,  
Like I do…**

**I****'****ll be the one to protect you from  
Your enemies and all your demons  
I'll be the one to protect you from  
A will to survive and a voice of reason  
I'll be the one to protect you from  
Your enemies and your choices son  
One in the same,  
I must isolate you  
Isolate and save you from yourself****"**

_**Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums **_**by A Perfect Circle**

**Wednesday, October 12 to Sunday, October 16**

_**Aro's POV**_

The sound of his screams echoed throughout the great hall, reverberating inside of my ears like a terrifying melody that spoke of a coming power. This moment was one of transition, of that I was certain. It was a new beginning that would solidify my place as the ruler of our species, and I found myself filled to the brim with anticipation, so much so that I clapped my hands together with delight before signaling to Jane that she should retract her hold on our new friend. Her childlike face transformed into a petulant pout, but she, in all her unending obedience, released him and awaited further instruction. I approached him slowly as his pain dissipated, crouching beside him so that I might gauge his current level of surrender.

Edward lay writhing, his back against the floor for a few moments, seemingly oblivious to my presence. Though his eyes—blessed windows to the emotional soul—remained tightly clenched, his nostrils flared with heavy breaths and his lips lifted to expose his teeth's silent snarl; his anger was quiet but decidedly present. The shroud of pain had been lifted, but he did not move to stand and retaliate against his attacker—the natural response to such an assault—and I took that as a mark in my favor. He may not have yet been weakened enough to satisfy my desires of submission, but his logic, for the time being, was overshadowing his strength and intuitive drive to fight.

I waited patiently before speaking, allowing time for his mind and body to reconnect themselves and their conflicting perceptions of reality. While his mind may have asserted his experience of agony, his body argued that it was in no grave peril; such was the beauty of Jane's gift—she was able to punish and, in this instance, teach an essential lesson through means of tremendous pain without ever resorting to physical torment. I was not a barbarian, after all, and I preferred to settle disagreements via the most civilized methods possible. It would weigh heavily on my heart if Edward forced me to resort to measures of physical destruction so that I might acclimate him to his new life, his new role in Volterra's hierarchy of power. Alas, with a deep sigh, I determined that I was getting ahead of myself in thinking such negative thoughts and refocused my attention to the young man before me.

I could tell from Edward's earlier thoughts as he watched his _family _leave that his loyalty was not to me, nor would it be in the near or distant future, and I had used Jane's gift to make him aware that such external devotion was unacceptable. Now, as when a parent has chosen to punish a child, I needed to make sure he understood the reason behind the punishment in order to prevent such an unpleasant experience from happening again. "I am so very sorry that you had to experience that, Edward," I said in my most earnest tone the moment he sat up and his blackened eyes met my own, "but I become quite upset when my guard members so blatantly display a longing to return to their previous lives. I have granted you a gift, child, in asking you to join me here; to have you look down your nose at such a blessing is—well, it is most offensive. You _must_ realize that your past is insignificant. Only your future is of consequence now, and you have pledged your eternal allegiance to **me**."

Edward's brow furrowed and he icily replied, "I cannot be expected to simply flip a switch and forget about my life, Aro. I did as you requested in consenting to join your guard, and for now that verbal contract shall have to suffice. I may have agreed to stay, but my innermost loyalty will **always **belong to my family, to my Bella, and our daughter. You may have taken away my choice to leave, but you cannot take away my memories."

My smile abruptly faded and I moved ever-closer to Edward's face, the tips of our noses separated by mere inches. His tenacity, though expected, was appalling, and I refused to allow such insubordinate behavior in the presence of his fellow guard members. It would set a very unhealthy precedent, and I didn't want others following his bad example. "Ahh, but you see, child, such a 'flip of the switch' as you called it—that is _precisely_ what I expect. And that is precisely what I shall have once you have experienced all that is in store for you. At present, you are wild, like a young stallion, asserting your independence as you are so accustomed, feeling as though you still have some measurement of freedom, no matter the circumstance, that is untouchable. Sooner or later, though, every stallion must be broken, Edward. And, with or without your acceptance, I _promise _you that the day of your breaking is nigh." I kept my eyes focused on his face, but spoke to another. "Alec, it is time." With my words, Edward's eyelids closed and he once again fell to the floor. This time though, his body remained still and his voice did not cry out.

I instructed Felix to carry the unmoving body to the Laboratorio, and, once there, Edward was deposited on the shiny metal table, and his clothes were torn from his body. Straps that had been specially woven to withstand the tearing force of the strongest of our species were carefully and tightly wrapped around his head, torso, forearms and ankles so that his movement could be forcibly restricted without the necessity of our presence in the room throughout the procedure. Then, after making sure that every piece of equipment was properly prepared, we quickly exited the room, Alec being the last to leave as he was still manipulating Edward's senses. The moment the door had been closed and Alec's view became obstructed, his connection to Edward was lost and I heard the faint beginnings of a commotion within the confines of the room. Felix and Chelsea rapidly replaced the insulation that had been temporarily removed from the doorway and then stepped back into the darkened corridor.

"You are all welcome to leave now," I informed them, knowing that Edward may still be able to hear their thoughts at such a close distance, and not wanting to risk such a possibility. They, being trained members of the guard, accepted my kind suggestion as the order it was meant to be and made their way to the better-known hallways of our home. Before they were completely out of earshot, though, I continued, "Don't forget about me at dinner time, please. I seem to be experiencing a sudden appetite for a young brunette with the sweetest of aromas. I expect an assortment of mouthwatering flavors to choose from in the coming hours." They acknowledged my request with a mingling of monosyllabic responses and then I was finally alone with my newest venture.

Edward had started to yell, the sound of his cries severely muffled by the layers upon layers of concrete and foam insulate that lined the room. Though I could not decipher his exact words, I could determine that they were laced with a certain element of fear, and that fact had a smile lighting my face that reached all the way to the corners of my ancient eyes. The more that Edward came to fear my power, the faster he would succumb to it, and I could scarcely wait for the day when his gift was mine to use as I pleased.

I reached before me to touch the first in a series of switches on the wall with a deft fingertip and I peacefully closed my eyes as I imagined the inside of the Laboratorio being suddenly sheathed in an absolute darkness. The sound of his voice grew louder still and then, when I moved the second switch, the quiet whirring sound of the turbo molecular pump completely displaced his cries as the air was quickly sucked from the room. In less than a minute, Edward would be surrounded by a vacuum of nothing. He would not hear a single sound, not even that of his own voice. He would feel nothing but the harsh coldness of metal and thread, and his eyes, though they may strain for any semblance of light, would behold only darkness. He would smell no hint of fragrance and his throat, thirsty as it may have been after the month of starvation it had endured, would not be sated.

The Laboratorio, in its current state, was akin to a mechanical reproduction of Alec's gift, save for one part. When Alec overtook Edward's mind, he was rendered completely senseless, and he was blissfully unaware of that fact, covered in a misty haze of ignorance. Inside the room that Edward now inhabited, he was denied all contact with the sensory world, but in that room, he would know it.

The ultimate test of our experiment had begun. I cleared my mind of every thought, and I waited.

**Edward's POV**

In the blink of an eye, everything had become an unknown. The last thing that I remembered outside of this room was Aro informing me that he would break me. My immediate thought had been that such would happen over my dead body, and I was about to tell him so when I was suddenly swathed in a haze of nothing. It was the equivalent of the numbness I had felt following Bella's alleged death, intensified more than tenfold and containing the capacity to remove all thoughts, good or bad, from my mind. In a way, it was peaceful. It provided a type of refuge from my worries, my fears. And then it had ended, and I had woken up in a nightmare of epic proportions.

This place, this room of darkness and solitude and suffocation was a torture chamber. All I could see was the dark outline of indiscernible shapes adorning the walls and ceiling in every shade of black. As the time passed—and how much time it had been, I could not say, for time had also fallen victim in this hell—the shapes morphed and stretched, until it seemed as though the walls went on forever. There came a point when I could scarcely tell if my eyes were opened or closed, for immovable blackness danced about the room in a waking dream that did not end with eyes wide open. I struggled to feel the feathery touch of my eyelashes on my cheeks, to focus on the colors inspired by my memories, but other aspects of the room made those actions difficult.

I could not move. I pulled and clenched and flexed, but I remained fixed in place, a statue of ice and stone. I had never before been met with a substance that could withstand the repeated pressure of my strength and not yield. Whatever straps held me captive were made expressly for the purpose of immobilizing my strength, of keeping my flesh against the cold hardness of the surface upon which I laid. It was uncomfortable to the extreme, as the table had various areas of jagged protrusions which pressed into my most delicate areas. My skin would not break against them, but every movement made me ache, and after so many minutes or hours or, perhaps, days of struggling, I could do nothing by lay still.

But in my stillness, the torture did not end, because the room was also filled with pressure—insurmountable, unbearable _pressure_. I guessed within a matter of minutes what had happened; I had a better-than-average understanding of general physics, and was well-acquainted with the concept of a vacuum chamber. I knew as I breathed following the submersion into darkness that the oxygen and countless other molecules filling the room were somehow being sucked out. I did not need the air to exist, but the simple act of breathing was one that I performed without thought, and every time I inhaled, there was the pain of nothing. I found myself drawing in rapid, unproductive breaths as the lack of air cause the pressure in the room to rise. I felt as though my head was in a vice, and every other thought, I was certain that my body was about to burst. I cried out in frustration and sadness, but there was no sound.

The only thing left to comfort me in this room of misery was my thoughts, and they grew less and less comforting as my fear of the unknown, of the _nothing_, steadily climbed. I wanted to know Aro's endgame. I wanted to know what he hoped to accomplish with his actions. I wanted to know what manner of trickery he was hiding that caused him to believe he could break me. Being deprived of all sensory faculties, though maddening, was not enough to make me forget my past and jump headfirst and happy into the Volturi guard. My heart was eternally bound to people who were thousands of miles away. He _must _have known this and yet, he seemed so sure of his abilities in both his thoughts and his words. _Why_?

Despite my failure to answer my own questions, I clung to my thoughts with everything I had in hopes that they would somehow be my salvation from this, whatever _this _was. In the beginning they were linear and structured; I was surrounded by the unknown, but I was also in control. Slowly, my ideas began to form in waves that oscillated in ever-changing patterns, but still had a defined beginning and end. I was surrounded by the unknown, and my control was slipping, but not lost. Until I found that my thoughts swirled in infinite circles and loops, mixing together with the madness of the dark, of the quiet, the cold and the isolation. Everything was interconnected and confusing, the shapes of night were moving, my ears were ringing from the silence and my eyes twitched, struggling to remember what it was like to see light. And my throat began to burn. My naked body was without fuel, without comfort, and my mind was without control. I refused to admit to being broken, but I could not deny that I was exhausted.

Then, suddenly and without warning, everything came back. The air quickly filtered in and I gasped as I inhaled it into my lungs too quickly, my chest heaving as far as it could move away from the table before crashing down on a spike that was situated beneath my spine. I cried out in pain, barely able to hear the sound of my own voice over the noise that blasted from the large speakers that I now knew adorned the walls that paralleled the table. It was not words or music or any sound of beauty. It was, instead, the sound of screaming, of loss, of _death_. And it wouldn't stop. The rows of stadium lights that hung three feet above me blazed through my clenched eyelids, causing me to see floating spots of white with every movement of my eyes. Out of habit, I blinked them open to clear my vision, and it was burning brightness. I tried to twist away, to escape, but I could go nowhere.

And then I heard their thoughts. My name, a thousand times over in a plethora of voices that were calling out to me. And then I heard _him_ just as he came to stand at my side. The lights became more subdued, though they were still too bright for my sensitive eyes. The speakers ceased their play. I felt warmth on my shoulder, the slightest of pressures resting against my skin as I relived my hell through Aro's perusal of my thoughts. I flinched away from the sensation of his touch as my eyelids opened involuntarily. My breathing was labored, but I managed to choke out a rush of words. "Why are you torturing me like this?"

Aro tsked me and spoke too loudly as he said, "Oh come now, Edward. I hate to refer to what we were doing as _torture_. The word sounds so harsh and crude. Here in Volterra, we are gentlemen. We are royals." He paused a moment, glancing away as if to think before he continued, "No, I much prefer to call it _conditioning._ I am conditioning you to be a member of the guard. I am conditioning you to be loyal to me." He stared at me and all I saw within his scarlet irises was evil. I attempted to listen to his thoughts, but it was as if I was standing in the middle of a crowded auditorium as every occupant shouted his thoughts into my head. I couldn't make out the signature voice of Aro's mind.

I closed my eyes and spoke through clenched teeth in between my still-ragged inhalations. "I. Have already given you my word. That I will stay in Volterra and. Be a member of the guard. _**This**__._ Is _completely_ unnecessary."

"Hmm," he breathed, his lips pursed as he knitted his brows in contemplation of my words. "I suppose we are in a disagreement then, for I believe that this is entirely necessary. Unfortunately, I cannot trust your words, or even your thoughts. I need a more substantial commitment." A woman entered the room then, one that I could not remember seeing before. Her hair was a darkened blonde that hung straight and lengthy, almost to her waist. As soon as her eyes met mine, I felt an odd tugging sensation within my head. An unfamiliar feminine voice began whispering the names of my loved ones, and, without a conscious decision to do so, I found myself thinking about them all, remembering them and what they meant to me. I felt violated by the pull within my mind, and I wanted to look away, but I was caught in the stranger's Medusa stare, becoming a fixed statue yet again.

As I looked at her, as I started to feel strangely devoid of emotion, Aro continued to speak. "You see, Edward, I need to know, should you be faced with the choice of protecting either my interests or those of your family, that you will make the decision to retain your loyalty to me and to Volterra. And the only way that I can be certain of your ability to make that choice is if this silly familial connection you possess is terminated. Your attachment to your parents, your siblings, your mate and your daughter are a hindrance on your ability to serve to your fullest potential as a member of the guard. And that will simply not due, Edward. I will not—"

I cut him off as soon as the demon-woman released me from her gaze and left the room. Feeling moderately recovered from my moments in darkness and light, I managed to keep my words, which were heavily laced with hatred and conviction, even and forceful. "I don't give a damn what you want! There is no way my loyalty to you will **ever** surpass my devotion to my family. The only thing that this torture is going to accomplish is strengthening my resolve of that fact."

Aro shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that you feel that way, Edward," he said, feigning remorse. "Because it is no longer your decision to make. The woman who was just here—that was my Chelsea, the crown jewel of my collection. The fate of your emotional attachments now lies in her hands. And, as I am responsible for dictating her actions, I can assure you that you shall soon be brought to my level of loyalty." He smiled then. He fucking smiled. I was not at all amused, and I also was not fully convinced of his statements. Chelsea had apparently just sifted through my emotions and, now that she was gone, I felt every bit as strong an attachment to every member of my family that I felt before she had entered. Aro spoke again, his hand gently patting my own. "Might I offer you a bit of advice, child?" I answered his question with silence and a scowl, but he continued, unimpeded by my obvious disgust. "Submit to me. The sooner you consciously let them go, the sooner this will all be over. If you resist, well, let's just say that, one way or another, they will be lost to you."

My cold blood ran colder and my eyes widened in a fear that I did not wish to show to the monster that had turned and was making his way toward the doorway. I seethed and asked, "And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

He turned to face me, the same evil smile gracing his lips. "You are a smart boy, Edward. I'm sure you will figure it out." An image passed into my thoughts then, an image of cold, white fingers caressing the cheek of my baby girl as tears ran down her cheeks. The finger tips traced a path toward her neck and then stopped, stretching apart and then winding themselves around her tiny throat. She screamed, "Daddy!" and then I heard the tearing of flesh and the snapping of bone. I jerked against the restraining straps as the image left my mind almost as quickly as it had entered.

My eyes sought out his retreating form and I shouted, "I'll kill you, you son of a bitch! I swear to God in heaven I will rip you to pieces if you lay one finger on my daughter!" His response was a cackling laughter that continued to assault my ears even after the door had been shut. I continued to shout profanities and threats, even after I had been bathed in darkness once again and the sound of my words was reduced to silence. I shouted even though I knew he could not hear me, until my already aching throat was raw with misuse. And then I simply closed my eyes and remembered. No matter the pain it caused me to think of them as I laid there suffering, I forced myself to feel all I could for them. I pushed myself not to betray them by letting them go.

Darkness and light came in an unending cycle of perdition. I lost track of time once again, and somewhere along the line, I also started to lose track of myself. I fought to hold on with every ounce of energy I possessed until my mind was no longer lucid and my body was too weak to even tremble.

I was not yet broken, no. But I was breaking.

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	32. COSMIC LOVE

My dearest readers,

I wish that I could be better to you. I wish that every day brought with it the time and motivation to bring you chapter upon chapter in weekly updates. Alas, I cannot be that type of author. The complexities of real life leave me straining to breathe most days, and my writing, though I enjoy it immensely, is forced to stew upon the back burner of my life. Hopefully the day will soon come that this story can become a more frequent part of my daily activities, but if not, all I can do is be thankful to those of you who wait, however impatiently, for the next installment. You will always have my deepest gratitude.

Love,

Kate

Previously, in Forks…Jacob was injured after saving Charlie from certain death at the hands of a thirsty Bella, Carlisle came home with only Rosalie, and he gave a tiny speech of pleas and promises in hopes of maintaining the dying truce between the vampires and werewolves of the area. We were left to wait and see how the wolveses reacted to the good Dr. Cullen. And that is (roughly) where we shall begin this chapter. I hope this makes sense and meshes well with previous chapters, because, sadly, it has been a loooong while. Enjoy, darlings :)

**32 ~ Cosmic Love**

"**A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes  
I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind…**

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat  
I tried to find the sound  
But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,  
So darkness I became…

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out  
**You left me in the dark****  
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight  
****In the shadow of your heart****"**

_**Cosmic Love **_**by Florence + The Machine**

**Thursday, October 13**

_**Alice's POV**_

It was strange how quickly ideas and emotions shifted and evolved. Just moments ago, I was perfectly content with the idea that fate was to blame for all of the crap that was happening in our lives, but in the mere blink of an eye, "fate" had become too broad a notion for me, too frail of a culprit for me to attack with my anger. I needed someone more defined, more _supreme_, to lash out now that my family was under attack—_again_—so I chose to look to God, albeit not in the traditional sense. If I were anyone else, perhaps I would have sought guidance or forgiveness or begged for some mercy for my family. But I was not normal in any sense of the word, so my turning to God included a brief stint of kind words followed by _a lot_ of mental diatribes. And quite a number of curse words.

The funny thing of it was—I had never been a religious person. Not ever. The thought of a single entity of higher power that controlled the unending circle of life and death had seemed like some preposterous notion considering the fact that I lived as an immortal. Why should it have mattered to me if God existed when I was already experiencing my eternity, my "afterlife" here on earth?

After all, according to Carlisle, the bible never mentioned vampires in its many verses and I refused to categorize myself as either an angel or a demon simply so that I might apply religion to my existence. I had faith of course—faith in things like love and family and goodness. But as for faith in an all-powerful being? Well, that was never something that I needed or wanted because I felt like I had a complete handle on my own life.

But then I lost my grip, my composure, my _control_, and I realized how little power truly rested within my hands. And that meant that the power, and the blame, belonged somewhere else. I felt my own sense of guilt diminishing as the anger bubbled within me, and when the clusterfuck of catastrophe dwindled down to a face-off with the furries, my subconscious started addressing its inquiries, its fury, toward God.

First, of course, I tried to be nice, tried to get on the good side of the man upstairs, so my thoughts went something like _Dear God, I could use a little help with my visions, please. _I allowed a few seconds to drift by, and then I sifted through my mind, trying to find something—anything—even remotely resembling a sighting of the future that would indicate my prayers had been answered. But there was nothing.

I was sure that this God was a busy fellow, but I was working under a time crunch here, so as Bella was pulled inside the safety of the house, I sent another request heavenward. _A little help? You know, for me, Alice, the vampire psychic who is currently experiencing clairvoyant impotence? _I searched again, and, thankfully, the gates to my visions opened wide and I saw Carlisle fast-approaching. With Rosalie. _Not_ Edward.

That stupid, stubborn, intolerable fool! I had warned him this would happen. I had warned him that he wouldn't come back this time. But did he listen to me? No. Never when it was inconvenient for his own motives. I would never understand why he always had to play the part of the martyr. Why he couldn't, just once, succumb to the bliss of his own happiness and shut out the rest of the world, damning the consequences.

My heart broke with a fury, but I didn't have time to come to terms with his absence just yet, so, after I gave Carlisle the run-down on the newest happenings at casa de Cullen and asked him a question to which I already knew the answer, I wrapped my sorrow up tight in a little black box of misery and shoved it to the back of my mind where it would be left to stew amongst my other boxes of grief until a later point in time. Right now, I needed the entirety of my focus to be on the creatures across the lawn.

I could hear their sloppy breaths getting ever-closer long before their canine forms came clearly into view, and I _almost _wanted to laugh because this was getting a bit ridiculous now. I mean, seriously, did we _really _need to add werewolves into the mix? We've got powerful enemies plotting against us halfway around the world, stealing or manipulating or killing our family members at seemingly every turn and now we had to deal with _werewolves_? What was next? Witches and warlocks? Maybe some goblins? I shook my head in disgust just before a chill ran up my spine as the disgusting stench of their scent wafted into my nostrils.

To my surprise, the mangy beasts didn't immediately attack us. I took over Charlie's uncomfortable position above the young wolf, at his request, my fingers plugging Jacob's artery as it attempted to pump what was left of his foul-smelling blood out of his body. I listened halfheartedly as Carlisle spoke to the large pack of wolves with eloquence only a saint such as he could possess in such a messed up situation while I aimlessly searched for what our futures would hold once the wolves made their decision.

I waited, and waited, and waited some more for the visions to come, but I saw nothing. Not even a blip. I then searched for the future of the injured one, deciding that his pack was just a little _slow _and probably needed some time to process all of those big words that Carlisle had just spoken before coming to a decision that would trigger my gift because I refused to even _entertain_ the idea that my sight was on the fritz _again_. Nor would I contemplate the possibility that I couldn't see our futures because the wolves were about to attack and we didn't _have _futures. I kept searching, and I kept getting…nothing.

Great. Awesome. Just freaking fantastic. I got one vision of more bad news and then I was blind as a fucking bat. _Alright God, You've had Your fun _I thought. _You obviously aren't inclined to answer my prayers, so I'm going to move on to threats: If I die at the paws of some smelly-ass dog, I'm going to bust through those pretty pearly gates of yours, hunt you down and make you pay. I've put up with a lot of shit lately and, dammit, I deserve a break!_

If there was a God, he probably wasn't going to react well to such intimidation tactics, but I wasn't overly concerned about that since, short of a lightning bolt descending from heaven and somehow striking us all dead on the spot, our situation really couldn't get _that_ much worse.

The wolves continued to take their sweet-old time making a decision—obviously, they couldn't comprehend the concept that the faster a life-threatening injury is handled, the less life-threatening it becomes—idiots!—so I decided to take the spare seconds and make an attempt to sort out all this visionary nonsense. But first, I was going to take deep, woosah breaths and clear my mind of all negativity so that I could do my very best to act like the good little happy-go-lucky Alice that everyone could always count on. Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. Ignore the disgusting wolf odor. And again. Okay. Good. Ready. Thinking cap on.

All of this—stuff—with my visions started with Bella and her infamous stint of cliff jumping. For a short while, I couldn't see her. From what I could tell based on our discussion at the hospital, my visions of her had ended right about the time she had come to the realization that she was pregnant, so Edward and I had assumed that Emmalie was somehow the cause of my absence of visions. This theory was supported by the fact that, now that Emmie had been born, I could see Bella's future as clearly as ever, but not her daughter's.

As for _why _I couldn't see my niece's future, I wasn't quite sure. I had never before experienced a problem seeing the paths of vampires and humans, especially when they were family and important to me, so my first inclination was that I couldn't see her because she was neither vampire nor human. She was a mixture, a miracle in so many ways, but an _other _nevertheless, a being that defied the laws of existence, a beautiful creature that I hadn't even known _could_ exist. Perhaps my gift simply hadn't been crafted to function for her. _Yet_, I thought optimistically.

What we hadn't taken into account involving Bella's future's disappearing act was the fact that she had been saved from drowning by a couple of young Quileutes. Young Quileutes who had known about vampires. Young Quileutes who I had every reason to assume were, in fact, stinky wolf people. It would be logical to at least contemplate the possibility that they were every bit as involved in my visionary blindness as Emmie was.

After all, I hadn't seen Bella's rescuers, I hadn't seen her and Conner returning from their hunt with the dogs hot on their heels, I hadn't seen Jacob saving Charlie and I couldn't see now whether the pack would choose to save one of their own in lieu of fighting with us or whether they would accept Jacob as the first of many casualties in a war where both sides would lose far more than either could ever hope to win.

But if I truly couldn't see them, if this wasn't just a temporary fluke in my gift, then I wanted to know _why_. What was the connection? What was it about the wolves that made them invisible like Emmalie?

All I really knew about them came from the stories Carlisle had told Jasper and me when we had first joined his coven. I knew that they were shape shifters, able to transform from man to ugly beast and back again. I knew that they were unpredictable, angry, dangerous, and, above all, _lethal _to our kind_. _I kept a watchful eye on them as a few possible explanations fluttered through my mind, and, seconds of careful contemplation later, I was fairly certain that I had it figured out. As with most things, the simplest explanation was likely the most accurate one, which meant that the key to this mystery was in their most basic element: the transformation.

It was very likely that none of the wolves had one linear future that could be watched and deciphered because a shape shifter isn't just one being. It is two distinct creatures, human and animal, and, during that transformation from one to the other, it is no creature at all. When it lacks the true characteristics of either of its forms, the point at which it is in limbo between them, it is entirely _other, _just like Emmalie. And, being like her, their futures trapped somewhere in that middle plane, they would have no discernable future. I allowed the idea to roll around in my brain for a few more moments, allowed myself to get used to it, to accept it, but the conclusions I had come to did little to improve my frustration because the fact still remained that I was in the dark.

A mild commotion brought my full attention back to the group of animals that stood before us, and I noticed immediately that a change had taken place in the wolves' collective demeanor. They no longer seemed feisty and ready to fight, and I chose to take that as a good sign. To my surprise, the black wolf that Carlisle had been addressing took a step forward and convulsed as if he were having a seizure for a few seconds until—poof!—he was a human male standing before us in all his glory, staring into Carlisle's eyes with a hardened expression, his jaw locked tightly as his nostrils inhaled a few rapid and uncomfortable breaths.

Before I was given too much time to dwell on the implications of his nakedness or his expression, he spoke to us in a hurried, gruff voice. "Do what you can to save Jacob. _If_ you can manage to keep him alive and _if _you release the human child we have seen into our care, we will stand down for now and at least give you the opportunity to explain your breach of the treaty before we decide on our own actions." I looked to Carlisle with an alarmed expression. He couldn't possibly—

Carlisle nodded in acknowledgment and quickly sprang into action, replacing my blood-stained fingertips with his own and spouting off instructions as he picked a barely-conscious Jacob off of the ground and began carefully moving toward the house. "Esme, please get my medical bag from the hall closet and take it to one of the spare rooms, then go up to the supply room and get me a bag of blood, extra thread and some morphine. And make sure Jasper gets Bella to the other side of the house."

My mother quickly raced away from us to get started. I, on the other hand, stood motionless, seething. I couldn't believe that Carlisle would actually consider handing Emmalie over to this group of emotionally stunted fuckwits. My niece was not going to set one little pinky toe outside of our house, and that was all there was to it. Her father was currently unreachable, her mother, for the time being, didn't even remember she existed, so that placed me—per Bella's insistence during our conversation at the hospital—as her guardian. And guard her I would.

Carlisle directed his words toward the human wolf, completely oblivious to my anger. "I'm pinching the nicked artery closed for the time being so that I can move him in the house and stitch it shut before I begin work on his leg. If the accident happened right before I arrived, then he has already been bleeding out for about four minutes so we have, at best, about ten minutes left until his brain starts to feel the effects of the blood loss. Once the artery is intact, I'm going to start a transfusion and then I'll have to open up his leg to assess the damage and repair what I can. I don't have enough anesthetic here to knock him out so I'm going to need a few of you to help keep him calm and hold him steady."

"And as for your other request," I began sharply, stalking up next to the beast that was nearly double my height, "You can—"

"Yes, Alice, thank you," Carlisle stated, cutting me off with a look of warning that I knew better than to ignore. "We certainly do need to address that issue. But first," Carlisle turned his head slightly as he set foot on the porch and looked at Charlie, his gaze stopping Bella's father dead in the tracks he was making to follow us all inside. "Charlie, I think it best if you stay out of the house for the time being. You should go and tell Jacob's father what happened. Billy is welcome to come here, but if he wants to wait, I will make sure we transport Jacob to the reservation as soon as he is stable. I'll have Esme bring Emmalie to your home and they will wait for your return." Charlie nodded his head in a gesture of agreement that Carlisle, who had already walked through the front door, could not see and then got in the cruiser and quickly drove away.

I rushed after my father and the lead wolf, eager to be a part of the coming conversation. I watched as Carlisle placed Jacob's weakening body gently upon the white sheets and swiftly began working with the instruments that Esme had provided to stitch up the neck wound. As he worked, he spoke. "You requested that the child you have seen at this house be turned over to you. I am sorry, but that is one request that I cannot grant. I would never ask a member of your pack to relinquish his rights to a loved one, and I would hope that the same courtesy be extended to myself and my family."

I looked to the leader, noticing the anger that was barely concealed behind his eyes, but Carlisle paid him no mind, continuing to work and speak without pause. "That child you have seen is my granddaughter, and I would never—"

His words were rudely interrupted as another transformed wolf entered the room. "Your granddaughter? Are you kidding me? You're a bloodsucker! You're not even _alive_!Do you honestly expect us to believe that a human child could be your _granddaughter_?"

Carlisle finished sewing the slice in Jacob's neck together, listened for the stabilization of his heart and breathing rates and, satisfied with what he heard, snipped the extra fine thread away from the last of the stitches. He then looked directly into the faces of the two tribesmen and calmly stated, "As it is the truth, I absolutely expect you to believe it. Emmalie is the _half-human _child of my adopted son, Edward, and his love, Isabella. Since Edward is not currently among us, and dear Bella is struggling to adapt to her new lifestyle, Emmalie is the responsibility of her aunts, uncles and grandparents until such a time as one or both of her parents are able to properly care for her."

The newer wolf looked about to protest again, but Carlisle raised his voice ever-so-slightly and continued, "**However**—I _am_ able to understand your motives for wanting her removed from this dangerous setting in light of what has occurred this afternoon, and I am willing to compromise. Emmalie is also a grandchild to Charlie, and he will happily care for her until Bella has been given time to develop the control to care for her daughter herself. I would hope that you are humane enough not to separate a mother from her child."

"Is that even safe? Having that thing, that vampire child,with Charlie? If she's part bloodsucker, what's to say that she doesn't try to attack him, or any other human for that matter?" Alright, that new wolf had to go. He just called my niece a _thing. _I wondered how he'd like to hobble around without his _thing _when I removed it from his body at some point in the next three seconds.

Once again, the possible consequences of my poor temper were averted by Carlisle's interruption. "Emmalie is completely safe. She would never hurt anyone unless that person was first trying to hurt her. Which brings me to my only irrefutable condition of this compromise: while at the Swan residence, Emmalie must always be under the supervision of at least one member of her vampire family in order to keep her, and Charlie, safe from the enemies of her parents. I believe you are acquainted with one of them—a redhead that was running around the area a month or so ago?" Carlisle waited for the wolves to respond.

"Yes, we know her. Haven't seen her around for a few weeks, though," the leader said after a brief pause, eyeing the steady rise and fall of Jacob's chest. "Is he going to be alright now?"

"He should be fine. He seems to be healing rapidly, now that the artery is closed. I'm guessing that all of you have some sort of accelerated repairing processes?" Off of the leader's nod, Carlisle continued, "We should start on his leg then, before it begins to fix itself improperly. I'm going to need you to hold him down, in case he regains consciousness when I make the incision."

The leader moved to follow Carlisle's lead, which seemed to infuriate the other wolf even more. "Sam, what the hell are you doing? This leech tells you that there's some halfsucker brat lurking around here and you don't even care? How can you—"

"That is enough, Paul. Jacob is my number one priority right now. As soon as he's taken care of…" Sam's gaze moved to fix itself on Carlisle as he continued, "I will get the _entire_ story and make my decision." My father nodded in agreement and poised the scalpel above Jacob's knee.

As the blade broke through the skin, I heard Jacob cry out and a snarl explode from the chest of the large grey wolf that was exiting through the front door. I cast a quick glance heavenward, saying one last prayer that Jacob's salvation and the honest telling of our family's recent history would be enough to cause Sam to forgive our "transgressions". I still wasn't one hundred percent certain of God's ability to influence our lives, but I _was _alive after coming face to face with a pack of raging werewolves, so I was choosing to give Him the benefit of the doubt. For now.

_**Jasper's POV**_

Somehow, despite my enhanced memory, I seemed to have forgotten just how strong newborns could be. My baby sister was absolute hell to control; she was thirsty, she was pissed off and she didn't give a damn who she had to rip apart in order to gain access to the human blood that still lingered sweetly in her nostrils and scorched her aching throat.

It was difficult to maintain my own composure with her violent blood lust smothering the waves of calm that I was attempting to emit, but I managed to keep my focus by allowing my mind to continuously replay the words Alice had spoken when we were on the island. _You are a good man, Jasper. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. I believe in you. I love you_.

The memory of her voice, the complete honesty and trust that I felt from her, then and always, was like a balm to the opened wounds of my soul. My past, my thirst, my betrayal of my brother, our family—none of that mattered now. I was being given the chance to prove that the darkness within me was not stronger than the light. I was being given the opportunity to help Bella ward off the demons that I had come to know all too well. I was fighting to keep her pure, fighting to prevent her from living an eternity of regret. But all of my fighting seemed to be in vain because no matter how strongly I pushed my emotions outward, I couldn't seem get through to her.

From the start, I had sensed that something wasn't quite right about my emotional interaction with Bella. She felt…guarded, as if she was somehow protecting herself from the emotions I was giving off. Never in all my years had I encountered something of a similar nature and it was upsetting. I thought for an instant that it may have been a problem with me, with my gift, but I could easily identify the calming effect I was having on Conner and Irina, so I knew that this odd sensation was all Bella. I didn't have the time to ponder the implications of her blockade, though, and since my talent for emotional persuasion wasn't working, I decided to wear the hat of the smooth-talking southern gentlemen my mamma and daddy of once upon a time had raised me to be.

As Conner moved to stand behind Bella while keeping his tight hold around her torso, I momentarily released her arms and slowly brought my hands up to grip the sides of her face. She immediately attempted to jerk her head away from my touch, growling and shouting profanities that would shame a sailor, but I held fast and started talking. "Bella, sweetheart, my name is Jasper. I'm Alice's husband and I'm here to help you. I need you to look at me. I need you to focus all of your attention, all of your senses on me. You need to allow me to help you calm down." Her eyes darted back and forth between the doorway and my face for a few moments and each time her gaze met mine, she lingered a little bit longer, her curiosity peeking through her hunger as she tried to remember me.

I knew when her eyes finally remained glued to mine that I had captured enough of her attention to get through to her, and when Esme's shouts sounded in the distance and the soft echo of rubber crunching on gravel reached my ears, I immediately understood what had brought about the change. Charlie's scent still lingered in and around the house, but his departure combined with our move to an unused bedroom on the second floor had greatly diminished its pungency. Without the sound of her father's pounding heartbeats and the overpowering scent of his blood, Bella was slowly unwinding from the frenzy, but she was still in need of some grounding, of a way to reconnect with the humanity that the animal within her had recently drowned out.

Before I could continue my soothing care, Conner abruptly moved in front of Bella and effectively shoved my hands out of the way, breaking the connection I had made with her. His grip slackened and shifted, his arms enveloping her torso in an embrace more _friendly_ than was appropriate for their relationship. My instant response would have been to put Conner in his proper place had I not seen—and felt—the immediate effect that his touch was having on Bella.

Her body drooped and molded itself into his as she gripped his waist, her fists clutching the thin material of his shirt so tightly that I heard a few of the threads tear. She clung to him as if he was her salvation, and he seemed happy to oblige such a responsibility. His palms rubbed circles into her skin and his lips ghosted over her hair in gentle kisses as he whispered words so softly that I could not decipher them. And as if all of those observations were not shocking enough, I also no longer felt the weight of her need dragging me down. The emotion that had been so strong only seconds before was completely absent, and, for a moment, it seemed as though Bella had completely fallen off of my emotional radar.

I stretched my gift to see what, if anything, I _could _feel, and I was immediately hit with the strength of her trust in him. As I searched more deeply, I began to notice some rather alarming feelings drifting across the space from his body to hers and back again. The worry and distress emanating from Conner had origins that I could fully understand, but the undercurrent mixture of lust and love had no place in this room, drifting between him and my sister. Bella was not herself; these emotions, this connection was not right.

I knew that Bella's memories were trapped somewhere in the recesses of her mind, which meant that the life she had lived before, her connection with Edward and the rest of our family, the existence of her daughter, they were all mysteries to her. Alice had decided that it would be best to allow Bella to remember her past at her own pace, thus preventing her memories from being tainted by our own, potentially misconstrued, interpretation of the events of her life. Bella had been through a great many ordeals in the past few months, Alice had said, and it was our responsibility to protect her and allow her to come into her own _on her own _when she was ready to do so.

Based on the day's events, it also seemed as though the memory pause would allow Bella somewhat of a reprieve from the pain that would fast approach when she learned of Edward's absence. I had yet to speak to Carlisle about their trip, but I knew enough of the Volturi to be sure that Edward had either been detained for his transgressions, or…I sighed in sadness. Or he was dead. I hated to think of the possibility but it would do our family no good to deny reality, and, in the end, both possibilities would likely have the same outcome anyway.

No coven had ever gone up against the Volturi and lived to tell the tale, so if they wanted to imprison Edward, there was little we could do to get him back. We could go at them with an army of a thousand expertly trained newborns, and still we would lose. The Volturi were no ordinary adversaries, and our collective gifts paled in comparison to Aro's clan. It seemed our family would once again have to adjust to a tragic loss. Only this time, it was Bella who would be hit the hardest.

No one knew if she had even been aware of Edward's departure, but we were all certain that it would be a hard blow to learn that he was gone, that he may never come back. It was downright cruel that she should have to lose him all over again. For the first time, Edward's gift of immortality seemed more of a curse than a blessing. An endless lifetime of loss and regrets, of pain and loneliness—Bella deserved so much more than that.

It didn't have to be that way, though. Bella could be saved from the pain if she didn't remember him. At least, that was Alice's plan. I understood her point of view, truly I did. And I had never been one to bet against the opinions of my wife without coming to regret it. But, just this once, I wasn't so sure that she was right.

Because how long could we truly hope to keep up the façade if ignorance? All we would really be doing is delaying the inevitable, because someday, when she was stable enough, Bella would meet her daughter, and in so doing, she would remember Edward. She would learn that there was a major part of her life that we had kept hidden from her. She would be bombarded by emotions on polar opposites of the spectrum, gaining a child and losing a lover in a single moment. Any trust she had given us would surely be broken. All of her progress and control would slip away.

Plus it seemed that, in our secrecy, we would also be setting Bella up for destruction at the hands of a man with the gift of deception. All of the signs that I perceived at the moment indicated that Conner, away from the scrutiny of her family's eyes, had decided to circumvent Bella's true memories of her past by convincing her to form a close and somewhat amorous relationship with him.

Their touches now were indicative of a physical intimacy that would have been so easy to develop in the many hours that they had been alone together hunting in the woods. I knew the effect of the hunt, the carnality of giving oneself over completely to the senses, on other areas of need, and, combined with Bella's heightened newborn instincts, the desires would likely have been magnified tenfold if given just the right provocation.

My thoughts toward Conner danced along the borders of homicide, on my brother's behalf as well as my own, as I imagined how easy it would have been for him to take advantage of her when they had been alone. I could not believe he would betray our family's trust in this way, especially after all that had happened with Tanya, but, in all reality, we knew very little about him, and, in that regard, our whole family was at fault for whatever had transpired between them. But whatever had happened was going to end now.

I did not relish the thought of telling Bella that Conner was not her true mate, of breaking the strongest connection she had formed with one of us since her awakening and taking away her apparent calm. But it would be far worse a crime to allow this to continue, to allow it to escalate to the point of no return. I would not have her guilt on my conscience, and I would not allow this or any other bastard to manipulate my little sister.

I took a few steps back and eyed Conner with a menacing stare that he noticed almost instantaneously. "Conner," I said slowly, "I'd like a word. Outside. Now." I nodded to Irena and a newly-present Kate to keep an eye on Bella as Conner exited the room quickly. I followed but before I was fully out of sight, I turned back to Bella and said, "We'll only be a minute, Bella. And when I get back, you and I are gonna have ourselves a little walk down memory lane." This plan might land me in the doghouse with Alice, but this was one decision that I was going to stick to, no matter what.

Moments later, just as both of us had exited the house onto the upper deck, I flew forward, grabbed Conner by his lapel and pinned him against the stone wall. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he spat out in a hushed tone, attempting to shove me off of him without alerting Bella to our heated conversation. Unfortunately for him, I lived and breathed this type of interaction for decades, so he wasn't going anywhere. And I had no desire to keep quiet.

"I could ask you the same thing, but I don't really need to. It was quite apparent what you've been up to lately, and what I'm doing is telling you that your game is gonna stop now. I don't know what kind of lies you've been spilling to that sweet girl in there, but no amount of trickery is going to make her fall for you. She loved Edward from the moment they met, and no memory loss can kill an emotion that runs as deeply as the love they share.

I know this because I felt it for months. I felt the way she burned for him, the way she _needed_ him. The way you've made her feel for you is just hogwash when compared to what she has with Edward."

Conner laughed humorlessly and looked at me through hate-laced irises as he spoke softly. "So her true mate is Edward, yeah? Where the hell is he then? Hiding in the wings somewhere? Waiting for the opportune moment to swing in and tell her how much he loves her?

No. He's off on another continent for God knows how long, probably forever, and Bella's here with no memory that he even existed. She's here with no idea that the man she gave her heart to left her _twice_, no idea that she's got a beautiful daughter sleeping upstairs that is never going to be whole again because the selfish bastard she calls Daddy abandoned her without a backwards glance. Right now, Bella is blissfully ignorant of all the pain your family's precious Edward caused her.

Forgive me for wanting to keep her blissful. Forgive me for wanting to show her what it _should _feel like to be loved. Forgive me for wanting to heal all of the scars her "real" mate created." He averted his eyes and finished by saying softly, "He's hurt her for the last time. Bella deserves to move on."

I released my hold on him and backed away, giving myself a few moments to reflect on what he had said because I knew that there were many elements of his speech that were based in truth. Ironically, I found that one of the major issues I had with Conner's logic was that it was too damn much like Edward's. "This is the classic case of the pot and the kettle," I said, shaking my head back and forth in disgust before training my gaze on the Irishman. "You find fault in everything that Edward has done, and yet you fail to see that you are just repeating his mistakes, acting exactly like he did."

"Are you mad?" he shouted. "I am _nothing _like him!" I passed a small wave a fear to him so that he would shut his mouth and allow me to finish.

"The first time my brother left Bella, the night that started the majority of this disaster, he left her because he thought he was doing what was in her best interests. The problem with his plan was that he deceived her into believing a lie in an effort to force her into following a life path that he had chosen for her. He didn't allow her to make her own choices, to live the life that she wanted to live. He misunderstood her humanity as an equivalent for weakness, and he took away her options.

And now, you are doing the exact same thing. You are deceiving her into forming a relationship with you, hiding her past in an effort to do what _you _think is in her best interests. You are treating her like a child, like you know what she needs when you have barely even had a glimpse into her life, into who she is.

You need to step down off your self-appointed pedestal and stop passing judgment on everyone around you, because you are no better. Bella is a grown woman who is stronger than most of the people I know and you need to give her the opportunity to make the decisions for _her life_. And that starts with telling her the truth about her past."

Conner started pacing back and forth, realizing he was fighting a losing battle, a small growl exiting his throat as he threw his hands in the air and shouted, "This is absurd! Edward is gone! He left her and he's not coming back!"

I was tempted to shove him up against the wall again for his stubbornness and stupidity, but a quiet gasp from a darkened corner of the balcony distracted my attention from the man before me. I searched the blackness for any sign of life, and realized much too late that our conversation had been witnessed by an uninvited guest. I pushed Conner aside and raced back into the house just as a flutter of movement brushed past the stairs.

_**Bella's POV**_

_Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. _The rapidly repeating sound caught hold of my flighty attention immediately, grasping at the concentration centers of my brain and drawing me in without any conscious objection. Just like before, all else ceased to exist. The two women standing with me were nothing but obstacles to overcome.

But this feeling, this pull—it was stranger than the last time, more familiar. It seemed to take root in my chest, rather than in my throat. To the instincts of the creature I had become, it was unnatural, wrong, unthinkable. Somehow I knew, though, that to those of the creature I had been, the _human _I had been, there was nothing on this earth that was more right.

Every one of my senses was on high-alert, straining to capture every minute detail of the sensation as it drew nearer. I was drowning in the beat, but I didn't care. My survival didn't matter anymore; nothing mattered but the source of that sound.

My eyes stared in the direction of the door as Kate and Irina raced to block it shut. I started to become angry, wanting them to pay for trying to take the sound away, but I needn't have worried. There was a blur of movement before I heard muted cries exit the throats of my two guards, and then the sound was upon me, flying into my arms.

I was lost in a sea of copper and honey, of brown eyes and warmth and drops of moisture. I looked into her face, and I knew that she was there in my memory, had always been there banging on the locked door with all of her might, pleading to get out. I was so close then, on the precipice of discovery, looking downward over an ocean of a long forgotten past. It was the touch of her fingertips that pushed me over the ledge and unlocked the door. It was her touch that made me realize what it truly felt like to be drowning.

Image after image, memory after memory rushed like a waterfall into my head. And just when I thought my mind was overflowing and could take no more, I felt her hands release me. I got no reprieve, however, because it became my turn to remember. She had filled me with everything she had, given me every thought and every emotion she had to give, but they were nothing in comparison to the magnitude of the memories that my own mind had hidden from me.

My emotions fluctuated like the tide, rising and falling as I relived my life. I clutched my head in my hands, trying to block out the sound of the words that I couldn't believe to be true. But I knew. I knew that they had been spoken. I knew that he had broken promises. I knew that he had left me, left us, again. And I was livid.

I clenched my hands into fists and my jaw so tightly together I was certain my teeth might break. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, becoming aware of my surroundings for the first time since the hummingbird heartbeat of my daughter had sounded in my ears. I saw Jasper, and my eyes locked with his. "Jasper," I said with a shaking voice and another laboring breath, "I'm not in a good place right now. Please take Emmalie away from here."

He nodded in understanding, and I felt the soft touches of his calming waves enveloping the outer layers of my rage. "Come over here, Little Miss," he said gently but sternly, and Emmalie obediently left my lap and jumped into her uncle's arms.

She glanced at me and her quiet voice whispered, "I love you, Momma," just before she was whisked away to some safer place. I was glad for her absence, because it allowed me the freedom to let go. It allowed me to release, to vent, to punch and destroy. I stood abruptly and raced toward the door, only to be stopped by the invading arms of Conner.

I pushed him away with all of my might and shouted, "If you want your head to stay attached to your body, you will stay away from me for the indefinite future." He looked as if I had punched him, an act which would have been a merciful punishment for what he had done, the way he had betrayed me. But I would not get into a brawl with him right now, because my anger at the moment was not meant for him. I flew past his motionless form, up the stairs to the room that I knew so well and grabbed hold of the first thing I could get my hands on.

CDs. Shelves upon shelves upon shelves of them started to fly, crackling and crushing and shimmering in the moonlight that shone through the window. Added to the sound of their demise were my cries and my curses and my questions. Wood splintered and iron dented. The soft leather of the sofa that had been so comforting to me when I had awakened was shredded by my fingernails. The bed was overturned and the blankets and sweaters strewn about. I scraped my arm across his dresser and flung every last miserable trinket to the floor.

It was when I collapsed amongst the mess I had created that it caught my eye. Something small sparkling in the light. I crawled toward it, counting every facet as I slowly reached out my hand and brought it closer. I would have thrown it out the window in an instant, had it not been for the fact that my advanced eyesight had immediately noticed the inscription. _Dearest Bella—all that I am, and all that I aspire to be, will be yours for eternity._

My anger deflated like a punctured balloon. I still wanted to punch him and kick him and scream at him until my voice was hoarse and he begged me for mercy. But more than all of those things, I wanted to hug him, to be comforted by him. My anger had become sadness, and, to be honest, I preferred the anger. It was easier.

A soft knock sounded on the door that was partially torn from its hinges, and my head whipped around to see Alice standing, shocked, in the hallway. Before I knew what I was happening, I was in her arms, and we were both trembling. We sat that way for a long time, just comforting one another.

But eventually, I had to ask. I had to know. "Where is he, Alice?"

Her eyes were cast downward as she answered. "He's in Italy. With the Volturi." I nodded my head once, and hopped to my feet. "Where are you going?" she asked, her arm outstretched to me as I reached the doorway.

I spoke matter-of-factly, as mine was the only reply that I could make sense of at the moment. "I'm going to find him, Alice. I'm going to bring him home. And, if he's lucky, he'll survive my wrath long enough for me to forgive him."


	33. TAKING OVER ME

And here we have another exceptionally LATE chapter. But I do what I can. I can only hope that it is enough...

When last we met, Carlisle stitched up Jacob and the Cullens' relationship with the wolves was in a very unsteady balance. Jasper had a heart to heart with Conner, and Emmalie flew into her mother's arms and forced her to remember. After Bella was reacquainted with her past, she went a little loco and tore Edward's room to pieces. Then she told Alice that she was gonna go get that sexy vampire man. Here is a continuation of that. Next chapter will swing back to Edward and then we will come to the part in the story where our two lovers finally meet again...Something to look forward to? Ummm...well...you'll see. Enjoy darlings!

**33 ~ Taking Over Me**

"**You don't remember me but I remember you  
I lie awake and try so hard not to think of you  
But who can decide what they dream?  
and dream I do...  
Have you forgotten all I know  
And all we had...  
I look in the mirror and see your face  
If I look deep enough  
So many things inside that are just like you are taking over  
****I believe in you  
I'll give up everything just to find you  
I have to be with you to live, to breathe  
You're taking over me"**

_**Taking Over Me **_**by Evanescence**

**Thursday, October 13 to Friday, December 9**

_**Bella's POV**_

"Bella, wait. Bella! BELLA!"

I heard the flutter of her tiny footsteps as she raced after me down the three flights of stairs and then her warm palm was grasping my shoulder, holding me just tightly enough to feel threatening. Despite my knowledge that the hand belonged to my best friend, my _sister _for all intents and purposes_, _I continued to be a slave to my instincts and emotions, so I spun on her and easily pinned her against the wall at the base of the staircase, my forearm pressing harshly against the span of her shoulders, my eyes flashing with a rage that I couldn't quite control. Slight, nearly invisible cracks formed in the wall surrounding her upper body, the product of the force of my actions. She winced, her eyes betraying her fear, but she did not make motions to challenge me.

"I am _done_ waiting around, Alice, so I suggest that you keep yourself from making any further attempts to prevent me from leaving." I released her and turned to walk away, making it about ten feet before her words froze me in my tracks.

"Fine! Be a stubborn ass, just like Edward. Run off to Italy, to the Volturi, without a plan, just like he did. At least he knew what he was up against. You don't have even the _slightest_ inclination of what you'll be facing. You have no money, no identification and no control. If the humans don't manage to stop you when you go on a blood-crazed killing spree in the airport, you'll still be dead before you even see my brother, unless Aro decides that you're worth keeping around and forces you into submission like he did Edward. Then you'll just be two peas in a pod, won't you? Both loyal pawns in Aro's twisted game, both leaving your family ripped to shreds because of your selfish absence.

I just can't wait to be the one to tell your daughter that her parents are gone for good. I can't wait to see the look of devastation on her face, to pick up the pieces of her shattered little heart. You, of all people, should know what it will do to her if she is abandoned by both you and Edward. Oh, and let's not forgot about Charlie. He sees you for the first time since finding out that you're not dead and you try to kill him, and now you want to run off and leave him with _that_ lasting memory of you? I guess it's a step up from letting him think that you committed suicide, but you're still going to force him to lose you all over again. I can't even fathom what that will do to him, but I'd venture a guess that it will destroy him, too.

But don't worry, you just go. I'll take care of _everything_. It's my job now, you know, to see visions of loss and death, and then clean up the messes that they leave behind when they come true. Maybe they would actually be worthwhile again if someone in this godforsaken place would _listen _to my advice for once. I guess that's my fault, though, isn't it? I was too late one too many times and now my opinions are just obsolete."

I turned around to face her, my thoughts stunned by the unusual cruelty of her statements and my body held motionless by the anger that made her golden eyes blaze over iris rims of coal. Her arms were crossed against her chest, her left hand subconsciously rubbing circles over the space on her shoulder that my arm had recently occupied. All at once, I was hit with another wave of anger, but this time, it was directed inward. I had hurt her, both physically and emotionally. And I would soon be the cause of significant pain for other members of my family, both human and vampire, if I followed the path of my desire to find Edward and bring him home.

When was this going to stop? I was trapped in a vicious cycle of the giving and receiving of pain and it seemed never-ending. My transformation had given me the strength of a thousand men, but it had also left me with deeply-seated wounds from my mortal life that would have an eternity to fester and destroy unless they were soon healed. Alice was one hundred percent right: I was being selfish. My mind had focused on Edward as a cure for my ailments, a method to ease my own suffering, and had lost sight of everything else that mattered. I wanted to prove that I was capable of being the protector rather than the protected, the savior rather than the saved, but, in this instance, I had almost led myself to my own demise. It seemed as though I could not shake my innate lack of self-preservation, even as an immortal.

I struggled to communicate with Alice following her outburst, because there was so much I wanted to convey that could not be put into mere words. I started out with the simple facts. "I'm sorry, Alice. I'm sorry for what I have put you through, for what _he_ has put you through. My intention in leaving was never to hurt you, or anyone else for that matter. But..." I shook my head a bit, trying to rattle the words that I needed to speak free from the many thoughts running through my head. "I don't know how to be without him, Alice. Ever since I've been changed, I have felt like I'm in this constant downward spiral of lost control, like whatever it was that made me who I am was rapidly slipping away. But since I've recovered my memories, it's like my emotions and my instincts are running parallel to something else, some baser need that is at the core of my identity and can overpower anything and everything else. And that need is what is driving me toward Edward.

I know I have every reason to hate him, to wish him ill because he left again, but no amount of anger could erase the simple fact that I love him. And now, after everything, I just—I don't know how to give up on him. I don't know how to stop myself from fighting with everything I have to bring him home to us. Because, somehow, I _know_ that if the roles were reversed, he would do the same for me." I took a deep breath and closed the distance between us, enveloping her in a hug that she soon wholeheartedly returned.

"You're wrong, you know," she said as she took a step away from the embrace, her eyes cast downward. "If the roles were reversed, Edward would have been halfway to Volterra right now." She looked up at me with a fierceness in her expression that I could almost feel. I wanted to be angry at the insinuation of her statement—that Edward cared more than I did, would try harder than I was—but she continued, "And that is why he would have failed. I love my brother, Bella, but he was stupid and impulsive, reckless even, when it came to playing the savior. For as long as I have known him, he was weighed down by guilt from past sins that he could never seem to escape. No matter how much good he did in this world, he always felt like he had something to prove. It made him irrational and placed him in danger. It was also part of the reason why he found it so hard to accept that he deserved you, why it seemed so natural for him to run away. He always thought you would be better off without him. And now," she paused and seemed to think twice about what she was planning to say before continuing, "Now I guess it doesn't really matter."

Her words left me feeling like I'd taken a punch to the gut. Once again, I was forced to ask for a truth that I didn't want to hear. "It's as if you've already accepted that he isn't coming back. Why are you acting like you're never going to see him again, Alice?" When she didn't immediately respond, I continued, "What haven't you told me? You would have told me if he—" I couldn't finish the thought, let alone the sentence. I re-examined the brief conversation that had taken place between us in the destroyed remains of Edward's room, analyzing each word, each sorrowful look with a fine-toothed comb. He was alive, I was certain of that, but I couldn't help but compare the current look on Alice's face to her expression on the day that Emmett had died. Her emotions were clearer now that they were not clouded by the inadequacies of human vision, but that difference was of no real consequence because the expressions were one and the same.

I tried unsuccessfully to stave off the fear as I looked her in the eye, my mind warning her not to lie to me at the same time that my heart pleaded with her to tell me that everything was going to be fine and that I would see Edward again soon. "Come on," she said, completely avoiding my questions and tugging on my hand gently. "Carlisle should be the one to tell you. He knows more than I do. He and Rose haven't spoken much since they returned from Volterra."

I switched to autopilot, a function I had forgotten I possessed until that moment, and allowed her to lead me to the dining room, where it seemed almost the entire family, plus a few unfamiliar guests, were seated for an important meeting. I immediately took notice of a repugnant odor that was dispersed throughout the room and I wrinkled my nose in distaste as I seated myself in one of the few empty chairs. Carlisle was regally poised at the head of the massive wooden table; my eyes gazed into his and my heart prepared itself to cling to his every word as he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Bella, I know you are in need of answers about Edward, but if you are to fully understand the situation then I must first tell you about the Volturi."

I bit back my frustration, and, refusing to waste any more time with the irrelevant details, I said, "I know who they are, Carlisle. The royals of the vampire world, the enforcers of vampire law, former acquaintances of yours—Edward told me all of this on my birthday, before...everything." I shuddered at the memories of that day and focused on the here and now. "The only thing I need to know is why Edward is still there. I need to know why you and Rosalie came home and he didn't." I hadn't meant for my words to come out laced with accusation, but I couldn't help it. It was hard to look into the faces of the last people who had seen him and not feel the need to suggest blame, however unwarranted it may have been.

Carlisle took my comments gracefully, and continued speaking with the gentle sternness of a kind father. "I'm afraid that Edward's description of the Volturi was lacking in many ways, dear Bella. He may have informed you of their history and their status within our world, but he failed to tell you that the Volturi are also the possessors of an extreme amount of power thanks to Aro's assortment of gifted guardsmen. He maintains control over members of our species who can paralyze and kill you before you even realize that you are in danger. And it seems that Aro's obsession with enhancing his collection of the gifted has only grown stronger in the centuries I have spent away from Volterra." Carlisle paused, seemed pensive for a moment, and then his fingers slowly encircled my hand before he continued speaking. His actions only served to heighten my anxiety.

"Edward's talent is very rare, and, as I feared, Aro took a liking to him almost immediately. I thought my presence, my history of loyalty to the three brothers would be enough to save him, but Edward's fate was sealed the moment he allowed Aro to access his thoughts and see what he was capable of. Of course, Aro put on a good show and made it appear as though Edward chose to stay of his own volition, but there was an entire silent conversation between the two that I was not privy to which no doubt included a threat that Aro knew Edward would never ignore.

I tried to convince him that he didn't have to stay, but he knew as well as I that such claims were a lie. He was trapped and I was powerless to do anything but answer my son's pleas and flee to safety with Rosalie. We would be of no help to him dead, and that would have been _our _fate had we decided to fight to take him with us." He paused a moment, and I struggled in the silence to come to terms with the meaning of his words. I saw him glance toward Rosalie, and for the first time, I noticed her vacant stare. Carlisle's voice became sad as he said, "And now that I am home, I am no closer to helping him than I was in Italy. Even if we could, by some miracle, manage to overpower the guard, by the time we get to Edward he may already be irreversibly damaged."

Rosalie seemed to sense the attention she was receiving and she moved her emotionless gaze to Carlisle. She tilted her head to the side slowly, as if she was confused by his words and then she smiled. I grasped the table roughly with my free hand in my attempt to refrain from slapping the smile off of her face; its presence did not belong amidst the cloud of sadness that surrounded me. My fingers easily dented the aged wood as her soft-spoken words filled the air. "I am not damaged, Carlisle." Her smile widened then as she said, "On the contrary—I am free. Aro _helped_ me. He took the pain away. I can remember, and it doesn't hurt anymore." Her voice became a whisper as she returned her gaze to a speck of nothing on the wall behind us and finished, "I don't have to _feel _anymore." I looked at her, my expression a mixture of shock and anger, my mind plagued with questions about what had been done to her, about what was now, most likely, being done to Edward.

I stood abruptly, impulsively, and said, panicked, "We have to go. We—we have to get him away from there." Now that Carlisle had confirmed that Edward was alive and Rosalie had given me insight into what would become of him, I couldn't stomach the thought of him being stripped of his emotions. I couldn't bear the idea of his once-vibrant, storybook eyes being replaced by replicas of the lifeless orbs that Rosalie now used to look around the room as if everyone and everything within it was a stranger. I looked to the comforting faces of my family, searching for some hint of alliance in the expressions of Alice, then Jasper, and then Carlisle, noticing for the first time that Esme was absent and immediately missing her soothing presence. "Please," I begged with shaky words, "We have to try."

The bitter voice that met my ears was unwelcome in every way. "And how do you propose to do that? Have you heard _nothing _that Carlisle just said? If you go to Volterra now, you will only manage to get yourself killed. And for what? To save a man who, if he truly loved you, shouldn't have even left you in the first place? Why are you so hell-bent on setting yourself up to get hurt?"

The chair I had been sitting on toppled over in my haste to fly out of it and over the table toward the source of that voice. My hand gripped his neck as I forced him up against the wall and shouted, "You are nothing but a jealous coward and a liar." I felt a multitude of arms pulling me off of Conner and forcing me to the opposite side of the room as he made his snarling exit from the house.

I growled in frustration as I was held against my will and then, for the first time, I heard Carlisle's voice take on an angry tone as his fist slammed down on the table, causing it to crack. "This is not helping!" His uncharacteristic actions had garnered the attention of everyone in the room as he spoke again. "If we continue to fight here, amongst ourselves, then we have no chance at all of survival. Aro is insatiable in his appetite for the gifted. He will tear apart this family without a second thought if it means he will become more powerful. If we cannot learn to set aside our differences and work together, then we have already lost this battle before it has begun."

"Carlisle," Kate said calmly from her place beside me, one of her hands still resting atop my bicep. "You speak as if we are at war."

"Are we not?" he replied with a tilt of his head. "Are we simply supposed to sit back and allow Aro to pull us apart piece by piece? Have we built up our families all this time just to allow them to be broken apart by the monsters that rule our kind with a treacherous hand?" Carlisle shook his head back and forth as he fervently stated, "I have not come this far to let them destroy everything that I hold dear."

It was Irina who spoke next. "I don't relish the thought of losing any more of my loved ones either, Carlisle, but how are we to beat the Volturi? You said yourself that Aro possesses numerous powers that we could not possibly overcome." The room was filled with an eerie quiet for a moment, each of us searching for and none of us possessing the answer we all so desperately needed.

"_We_ cannot overcome, them, no," a rich, unfamiliar voice stated, piercing through the silence. The words belonged to an olive-skinned member of Kate's coven that I had not yet met, and his golden eyes were staring directly at me as he spoke. He stood and moved around the table until he was standing directly in front of me. His hands reached out to gently cup my face as he said, "But, perhaps, _you_ can."

I had no idea of how to respond, other than to call him out on his lunacy. I was quite certain that the sheer desire to save Edward, and the rest of our family, would not be enough to actually accomplish the task. The stranger before me must have seen the disbelief in my eyes because he continued, "You are one of the gifted, child." I opened my mouth to disagree, but he did not allow me the time to form words. "You may not be old enough to have realized it just yet, but your talents are quite special. You, Isabella, are a shield." My mind immediately conjured up images of medieval metal armor but I did not feel powerful or protected. In fact, if anything, I felt more helpless than I had as a human. I wanted to curse this man for his attempts at providing false hope, but Jasper was already speaking.

"Of course! That's why Edward could never hear her thoughts. And that's why I couldn't get through to her today to calm her down. She was blocking me out."

"My gift didn't work on her either. I attempted to use it earlier today and just now," Kate looked at me apologetically and then finished, "She didn't even flinch." One, by one, the vampires that surrounded me replaced their looks of trepidation with ones of awe. But despite their fascination, the fact remained that I didn't _feel_ any different and I refused to get my hopes up. Even if I was this _shield_, I failed to see how being able to protect myself would allow me to overpower the Volturi.

I held my hands up in front of me and took a step back as I shook my head from side to side, denying the trust they all seemed to be blindly placing at my feet. "I don't understand," I said, as turned to gaze at the man that stood before me. "How do you know that I am gifted? And how could my being a shield, if I truly am one, give us an advantage over the Volturi?"

"Forgive me, I never introduced myself," he replied and with a slight bow, he said, "My name is Eleazar, and I know of your gift because my own talent is the ability to recognize the gifts of others. And your gift, if you work to develop it, will allow you to shield not only yourself, but all others who you wish to protect. You will be able to prevent Jane or Alec from incapacitating us with their mind tricks and without them, the battlefield will be much more even. We may need to work a bit to enhance our numbers and our fighting experience, but, with you, we have every bit the chance of winning as the Volturi do."

I took a few moments to process this new information, and for the first time since Carlisle had spoken, I started allowing myself to hope. I wanted to believe that what Eleazar said was true. No, I _needed _to believe it, because it seemed as though the future of everyone in our family was now resting upon my shoulders. For the first time, I understood the magnitude of the weight that Alice carried. For so long, I had taken her for granted and I felt the immediate need to apologize to her, to convey my gratitude for everything that she had done for me. But when I saw her sitting across the room, her eyes staring off into the distance, I knew that her gift was bombarding her with another vision and my apologies would have to wait.

When the haze cleared, she blinked rapidly for a few moments and then she looked to me and smiled. "We should start training," she said, and then she grasped Jasper's hand and walked out of the room without so much as a backward glance. I narrowed my eyes at their retreating forms, knowing all-to-well that my best friend was hiding something, and whatever that something was had her faking her optimism. Unfortunately, I also knew that until she was ready to share with me what she had seen, I was going to have to work under the assumption that, no matter what her vision had shown her, I would be strong enough to change it.

The days passed quickly into weeks, and before long, more than a month had passed. The Cullen household was overflowing with guests from all areas of the world. Not all of them were vegetarians—those who weren't received strict hunting instructions that excluded all humans within a 100 mile radius—and there were many whose personalities did not mesh well with one another, but a level of tolerance was established because all of them found a common ground in their hatred of the Volturi. And, thanks to Charlie, the Italian vampires turned out to be our only enemies at the moment.

After Carlisle saved Jacob from the wounds that I had caused in my quest for my father's blood, he was given the chance to explain the situation leading up to my transformation. No one knew what the wolves would decide after hearing our story, but, as it turned out, it was Billy, as the eldest descendent of the Quileute chief, who made the ultimate decision to let the breech of the treaty slide. Apparently, Charlie had demanded an explanation about the wolves and the treaty when he went to visit a healing Jacob on the reservation and then proceeded to threaten that anyone who went anywhere near one of the Cullens with the intent to harm them would be staring up the barrel of his shotgun. In short, he told them that if they wanted to kill me, they would have to kill him first, and that didn't go over well with Billy. Shortly after Charlie's tirade, the leader of the wolf pack sat down with Carlisle to reaffirm the treaty, and our families were left in a surprisingly stable truce.

One condition of the wolves' acceptance of my change was that I be more closely supervised until I was able to control myself. I quickly demonstrated that I was not a danger to Emmalie, despite her beating heart, so her semi-permanent move to Charlie's house was changed to a daily visitation instead. It was always difficult to watch her go, but I wasn't quite controlled enough to meet with my father face-to-face just yet. Charlie was surprisingly understanding of the situation, and made a grand effort to improve his conversation skills via frequent telephone calls. I think a small part of him was afraid that I wasn't real and the sound of my voice was his reassurance. It became very clear to me where I inherited my self-preservation eccentricities, because Charlie was not at all worried that I had tried to kill him; instead his worries revolved around me disappearing again.

"You're not going to go anywhere just yet, right Bells?" he had quietly asked me one night. When I hadn't answered him right away, he cleared his throat and said, "I just got you back, you know. You and Emmalie. You guys are my life, kiddo. And I can't handle losing you again." I could tell that he was fighting not to get choked up and my eyes burned with emotion that I could not properly display. I told him again that I was sorry for what I had done to him, and added that he needn't worry about us leaving, even though the reality running through an alternate thought pathway in my mind was that I had no idea what my future held, or how long I would be here. For what felt like the thousandth time since my return to Forks, I brushed the truth under the carpet and simply told my father that I loved him. Not a day went by that I wasn't thankful that I had been given the chance to say those three little words. I owed Esme and Alice beyond comprehension for letting the vampire out of the bag and giving me the opportunity to be a daughter again.

Being a mother was just as gratifying, although there was an element of sadness in every moment that I spent with Emmalie because I saw Edward in her everywhere I looked. She was beautiful and stubborn and kind and serious, all attributes of her father, but the traits she got from me would show themselves from time to time when she got shy in front of a new visitor and wrapped herself around my leg or when she managed to entertain herself for hours by reading through the collection of books in my old room at Charlie's house. Overall, I think she got just the right amount of each of us.

But she was changing fast, growing and learning and becoming her own unique little person right in front of my eyes. And in the back of my mind, all I kept thinking was that Edward was missing it. He was missing her eyes alight with wonder when she discovered something new. He was missing her as she ran freely through the forest for the first time, giggling as the falling snow tickled her warm skin. He was missing her smiles and her imagination and her moody tantrums and her hugs and her kisses and her 'I love you's.

And then, at night, when she would fall asleep, he was also missing her share her dreams. Her eyes would flutter as she drifted to a world of her own creation, and there were many times where I wished to curl up inside of it because, in that world, Edward was always there. I know because she got another trait from me. My Emmalie, my baby, _always_ talked in her sleep. And every night, when her dreams would take her to some far off place, she would have a conversation with her Daddy. Sometimes, when she sounded sad, Edward's absence made me angry, but most of the time, I simply worried. Because he was missing his daughter growing up and there was a very good chance that he no longer cared.

I tried to hold onto my optimism with all my might, I tried to tell myself that Edward's mind and emotions wouldn't fall victim to Aro's evil like Rosalie's had, and it had almost worked. I let myself believe that my growing power, my ability to cast my shield outward and envelop anyone I so desired, would be enough to maim the Volturi so that we could fight a fair battle and defeat them. Each of us had been working tirelessly to enhance both our gifts and our fighting skills, and we had come a long way since October. For the first time in my life, I felt strong; I felt _important _and perhaps even a little _confidant_. I truly believed that we had a chance...until Alice finally decided to tell me what her frequent visions were about.

I remember feeling a chill when she asked me if I'd like to go hunting with her; she'd been keeping a distance lately to avoid my questioning stares, so the request had caused my instincts to climb to high alert and I think it was then that I _knew_ that this would be like a journey I had travelled before, a walk that I had taken a lifetime ago that had resulted in my eventual destruction. I nodded, determination building in my veins as we made our way through the woods. I was not that weak human girl anymore, and I vowed that whatever happened between Alice and I was not going to break me. Not this time.

I followed Alice as she sprinted around the blowing branches, knowing that she had a specific destination in mind. When we came to a clearing, she abruptly halted her steps, and the truth spilled forth from her mouth like water from an overflowing fountain as her eyes pleaded with me for understanding.

"They're coming here. I don't know when yet, but the decision has been made and the Volturi are coming. The fight will happen in this clearing."

I looked at her questioningly. "Why aren't you sharing this with everyone? They all have a right to know, Alice."

She shook her head briefly and began pacing as she talked, but it seemed as if she was holding a conversation with herself rather than with me. "I'm going to tell them. Of course I'm going to tell them. I just need to keep searching for a little while longer. There's got to be something I didn't see. There's got to be another way." She tugged on her spiky hair and growled. "Dammit! What am I missing?"

"Alice? I'm here. Talk to me. Tell me what you've seen and we'll figure it out together." To be quite honest, she was starting to scare me a little bit. Maybe a lot a bit.

She stopped her movements again and looked me straight in the eye. "Bella, Edward is not the man you knew. Not in any way that I have seen, and I've been inadvertently watching him self-destruct since the day you got your memories back. I—"

I immediately silenced her with my own heated words. "How could you not tell me? How could you watch him slip away without letting me know that we were running out of time?" I was impressed at the amount of restraint I was showing because at that moment, I was livid. I crossed my arms and started wearing a track into the leaf-covered grass; it was my turn to pace.

"You can be angry with me all you want, but I did what I thought was best. You have a one-track mind when you're worried about Edward and you needed to focus in order to work on expanding your gift. Without the strength you've gained from your training, we would all fall victim to the Volturi. Now, at least, we stand a chance." She took a deep breath, and then said, "But our victory will come with consequences, and you need to know that going in. You need to be prepared." I nodded for her to continue.

"Bella...when I have my visions, I only ever see two outcomes. One of them involves our defeat, the other, our survival." I continued nodding at her, willing her to speed up this information session that she seemed perfectly content to drag out for all of eternity. "Our victory seems irrevocably tied with Edward's death." I drew in a quick breath, terrified to allow the words she had spoken to transform into images in my mind. She continued, "Our loss seems irrevocably tied with yours." I didn't want to hear this. I didn't want to _know_ this. I shouldn't have agreed to come here. I was starting to break apart again. I could feel the fissures in my chest reopening, little by little, exposing my still heart to the bitter cold of truth.

But Alice didn't stop, for she had one more idea to share, one more stake to drive into my hardened flesh. "Bella, I'm sorry, but every time I see you die, Edward is the one that kills you."


End file.
